


Who Said You Could Waltz Off with my Heart?

by Sophtly



Series: Waltzing Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Dance instructor Castiel, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mechanic Dean, NO adultury in this fic, Sex Toys, because he loves it, but sometimes he tops too, exporing sexuality, solo sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophtly/pseuds/Sophtly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn't excited when Lisa informs him they're taking dance lessons for their upcoming wedding. Little does he know that everything in his life is about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is far from perfect, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. I've struggled with it so much, I'm just going to post it and hope for the best. I'd love your feedback as to what you liked or didn't like (gently please) and what I could do to make it better.  
> Thanks to the lovely A for editing. All remaining mistakes are my own.

“I signed us up for dance lessons, we start tomorrow afternoon. 4:00.” Dean is pulling off his bow tie when Lisa’s voice reaches him from outside their walk-in closet. His tux jacket is already hung up carefully on its hook; it will have to be taken to the cleaner later this week. It’s been a long night at yet another fundraising dinner, this time for the art center where Lisa volunteers. Lisa spends a lot of time lecturing him on the responsibilities of wealth, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing he could have kicked back on the couch and watched the game tonight instead of making small talk with more people that he has nothing in common with. And now this?

“Dance lessons? For what?”

“For the wedding, silly,” Lisa says, coming into the closet. “Unzip this for me?” She stands with her back to him, and he pulls down the zipper on her long purple gown. The strap falls down over one tan shoulder and he leans forward on instinct and kisses warm skin. She really is beautiful.

“The wedding is still six months away,” he murmurs into her neck.

“The wedding is only six months away,” she corrects him, “And you can’t dance anything but the Harlem shake.” She’s smiling when she turns around, gives him a little peck on the lips. When he leans in for more, she pulls back. “You can’t just dance a little slow dance at your wedding anymore, Dean. Everybody is doing complicated dances now, and I’m not going to have my wedding be anything less.”

“Oh,” his voice is tinged with bitterness, “So this is about how we look to everybody?”

“Dean, how many times do I have to explain this? It’s not just about what I want, okay? I have to uphold the reputation of my family. I know these things don’t seem important to you, but they are. Our wedding is going to be covered by the press, do you understand that? This is important to us, to our standing, to how people will view you and me once we’re married.”

I wish you would have told me this when we were sixteen, Dean thinks. I wish you would have warned me when we were twenty that the fun-loving, down to earth girl I fell in love with was going to turn into her socialite mother. “I thought-“ he puts his hands carefully on her waist, tries to get out the words in a less cutting way, “I didn’t think this is what you wanted, Lis. You said- you told me you just wanted you and me, together somewhere, happy.”

There’s one heart-stopping moment where she looks like she’s about to crumble, but then she pulls her shoulders up and says with forced cheer “And here we are. Together. Somewhere. Happy. Yes?” She slides the dress the rest of the way off, stands in front of him for a moment in her matching lacy bra and underwear before she slides up against him, grips his ass in her hands while she kisses his chest through the gap in his partially unbuttoned shirt. She’s gorgeous and she’s moving in all the right ways, yet all he can do is stand there and wonder when sex became something they use as a distraction from talking. The thought makes bile rise up in his throat and he pushes her away carefully. “I’m really tired, and I’ve got to be at the garage early in the morning.”

“When are you going to sell that old dump and come work for my dad?” she asks, moving in again and nipping at his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his head.

He moves her away again saying firmly, “We’ve had this discussion, Lisa. And I’m tired. Can we please just go to bed?”

“Fine.” She unhooks her bra deftly, pulls it off and leaves it in a heap on the floor at his feet before going out to the dresser to find something small and silky to slip into before crawling into bed. Dean strips down to his boxer briefs and uses the bathroom before following her. She’s turned away from him, the lamp on her side of the bed already shut off. He stands by the bed and stares at her back, trying to figure out if there’s something he should say before giving up and crawling into bed.

He shuts the light off and lies on his back, blinking up into the darkness. Sometimes he thinks he must be insane to be marrying her in six months. Is this what the rest of their lives are going to be like? But he’s been so in love with her for so long. It’s hard to imagine there’s anyone else out there who he could be happy with. Not that you’re all that happy with her, a traitorous voice in his head says. He pushes it into the back of his mind. No, the Lisa he fell in love with is still there somewhere. Maybe after the wedding, when things have settled down more, she’ll laugh again, run off with him on little crazy adventures like they used to do. It’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

He wakes up to a note:

Meet me at Heavenly Dance 3947 Euclid Ave. 4:00. Don’t be late. xo, L

Heavenly Dance? What the hell kind of name is that? He crumples the note up vindictively only to smooth it out again when he realizes he needs the address. He’ll make Sam or Jo print out directions for him later today, although there’s no way in hell he wants them to know where he’s going. This might be a problem. He’ll figure it out later. Seems to be a mantra of his these days: I’ll figure it out later.

He manages to eat half a bagel loaded down with cream cheese in between gulps of coffee before filling up a thermos to go and heading to the garage. Winchester and Sons isn’t in a great part of town. It used to be. Used to be right on a main street, a neat brick front with perfect green awnings. Dean’s seen pictures. There’s one still hanging in the office of his grandpa holding his dad’s hand when he’s about three. Now though, the street is filled with run-down buildings, a few businesses trying to hold on. Winchester and Sons is doing pretty great though, Sam has informed him. Sam is going to school for his MBA, but he still manages to look after the shop’s books on the weekends and takes on more ambitious projects during the summers, which is when he and Dean usually fight because Sam says Dean is stuck in the 80’s, and Dean says they’ve been doing just fine with the way things are for the past 50 years and why change it now?

Dean pulls up and enters through the shop. He stands for a while and lets the smell of engine oil and the sound of air compressors and tools clanging against metal soothe his nerves. This place is like home to him. He’s been running around in here since he could walk almost, remembers what it felt like to his five year old self when his dad lifted him up so he could see under a truck hood, show him what was wrong with the engine, like Dean really understood. While Sam spent summers down at the pool with his friends, Dean spent almost every day at the garage, working alongside his dad when he was old enough to. He didn’t have to, he just wanted to. It was where he was happiest. School made him feel stupid, working on engines made him feel like he could do something right. He rebuilt his first car when he was 16, the summer he met Lisa. They sneaked out to the late drive-in movie, spent most of the movie making out lazily in the backseat, clumsy and unsure and happy.

Thinking of Lisa makes Dean’s face scrunch up unpleasantly. “You’re either constipated or thinking too hard,’ a voice breaks into his thoughts. “If it’s the whole constipated thing, I’m pretty sure my mom has some prune juice to help with that.” Jo is grinning up cheekily at Dean and he can’t help but smile back. Jo is like his kid sister, and one of their best mechanics. She learned everything she knows about cars from her mom, not her dad, and she won’t put up with any of the sexist bullshit first-timers try to throw her way. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her blue jumpsuit and rocks back on her heels, her eyebrows asking a silent well?

“I’m not constipated,” he growls at her.

“It was a valid option from the look on your face, okay? Just sayin’. What’s eating you?”  
“Nothing to worry your cute little head about,” he answers. He pulls the baseball cap off her head and pulls her into a headlock, rubbing the top of her hair into a grand mess.

“Get off me you little shit!” She shrieks, squirming helplessly. “Bobby! Ash! Someone! I’m being harassed at work! This is an unsafe working environment! Help!” She yells.

“What’s all this infernal racket about?” Bobby asks gruffly, stepping around the corner of the huge Dodge dually he’s been working on. He’s trying to look angry and not succeeding very well. It’s a look Dean has seen a lot over the years. “Aren’t you two getting a little old for this?”

“Never!” Jo and Dean say together, dissolving into laughter. It’s one of his favorite things about Jo, Dean thinks, the way she makes him feel like he’s a carefree teenager again, pulling pranks and making his dad yell at them.

“If you two don’t knock it off, I’m going to let Ash pick the radio station for the next week.” Bobby threatens darkly.

“Right on!” Ash calls from under a hood somewhere.

“We’ll be good! I swear!” Jo says as Dean lets her go. She stands straight and tries to bring some order to her hair before giving up and shoving her hat back down on top of it. Last time Ash got to pick the music, they were stuck listening to Mariachi bands on the Spanish station for a week straight. Whether he picked it because he liked it or because he knew they’d hate it remains unclear, but it’s something neither of them are willing to repeat.

Dean makes to head into the office area when Jo grabs his wrist. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.” She’s got her serious face on; little worry lines creasing her brow as she looks up at him.

“Sure thing, kid.” He gives her a little smile, reaching out with his thumb to wipe a grease spot off her cheek. “I’m fine, okay?”

“You know what fine stands for right? Fucked up, insecure-“

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He cuts her off and gives her a firm swat on the butt, “Get back to work. We’re not paying you to stand around, you know.” She sticks her tongue out at him but goes skipping back across the garage.

Dean opens the door that separates the garage from the rest of the building and steps into the main waiting area. It hasn’t changed much over the years since Dean was a kid. The walls are still that awful wood paneling that all the garages seemed to have back in the day, an addition from a renovation in the 70’s. The floor is the same off white generic tile that he remembers installing with his dad in the late 80’s. His mom had wanted them to paint the paneling and put in some nice shiny black and white check flooring, but his dad wouldn’t hear of it. Dean can’t deny that he got his stubborn adherence to the past from his dad. His mom knew where to pick her battles, so she let it drop. Sam’s more like her, always looking ahead.

Speak of the devil, “Hey Sammy. What the fuck is that?” Sam is hunched over the desk, partly hidden behind what appears to be a monstrosity of a computer monitor, if Dean knows anything, and when it comes to electronics, usually he doesn’t.

“It’s Sam,” Sam says, glowering, “and there are ladies present.”

“Aw, and they say chivalry is dead,” a girl says, popping up from behind the computer screen. She’s got flaming red hair in a pixie cut and this twinkle in her eye that is sort of ridiculously irresistible if Dean is being honest, which let’s face it, he rarely is. He feels his expression lift because it’s impossible to glower at anyone wearing a Princess Leia t-shirt and pac man earrings. She sticks her hand out. “Name’s Bradbury, Charlie Bradbury,” she says with a saucy wink.

Dean wants to be grumpy because clearly Sam is up to one of his summer projects that is going to piss him off, but Charlie is smiling at him big and wide and he knows, in that way you know things sometimes, that pretty soon she’s going to be another thorn in his flesh, the little sister he never wanted, just like Jo. It probably shouldn’t make him happy, but it does. So he actually smiles back and says “Dean. Nice to meet you. Sam has told me nothing about you because that’s the sort of thing Sam does.” He throws a pointed glare at Sam who holds his hands up like who? Me?

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Sam says, which means he’s about to say something that is probably going to make Dean freak out. “Charlie’s helping me set up a system so we can do everything on the computer for the shop. No more of those old ledgers and that mess of papers in the back you call a filing system.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean fine? You’re not going to fight me on this?” He crosses his arms across his chest and squints his eyes at Dean as if he’s hoping he can see into his brain and figure out what’s going on in there. Apparently it doesn’t work because he asks, “What’s going on with you? You never let me do this stuff without a fight. This is going to require you using an actual computer, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes even though he knows him having to use a computer is a big freaking deal and usually he would be pitching a fit but…he’s tired. He’s so damn tired. Sam is going to win anyway and Dean will have to act pissy about it for weeks just to prove to Sam that he hasn’t totally given up and he’s just not up for it right now. He’s got bigger fish to fry, like having to take dance lessons in about seven hours. “I said fine, Sam. Do you want to fight about this?”

“No,” Sam says slowly. “No. Okay, great! Um, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing then.” Charlie is looking between them with a questioning look but she perks back up and turns back to the computer.

“I know I don’t know much about computers,” Dean says as he comes around the counter to take a closer look, “but isn’t that screen really big? I mean like, really big?”

Charlie looks a little sheepish when she answers. “Uh, maybe? But bigger is better, right boys? Size matters and all that?” She wiggles her eyebrows at them. “Okay, so maybe I got a liiiittle carried away when we were shopping but…look at it!” She sweeps her hand towards the screen like she’s Vanna White. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“Geez, if you love it so much, why don’t you marry it?” It might not be his most adult reply ever, but Dean’s sticking with it.

“If I’m going to marry anything or anyone around here it’s going to be that little blonde mechanic out there. Mmmm…” She sets her chin in her hand and stares dreamily into space.  
Sam almost spews his soda across the room. “Jo?” He asks. “I don’t think-“

“Stop! Let a girl dream, okay, Sam?” They’re all laughing when Jo walks in the door. They take one look at her and burst into another peal of laughter.

“What?” Jo asks, looking down at herself. “What’s wrong? Do I have toilet paper on my foot or something?”

“No,” Sam says between snorts. “It’s nothing, really.”

The last of the tension has rolled from Dean’s shoulders as he climbs into a jumpsuit and heads out to the garage. He pushes out all thoughts of what he has to do later and focuses on engines and tires and mufflers and the easy banter between Jo and Ash. Right now, life is good.


	3. Chapter 3

Thankfully, Dean is able to get Charlie to print out directions to the studio for him while Sam isn’t around. He knows Sam or Jo would have looked up the address and found out where he was going and then he would have never heard the end of it. Charlie just smiles and hands him the directions and he’s off. Hey, something went his way. He should probably mark it down somewhere.

The studio is in a squat, unassuming building. It’s not too far from the garage, actually. He’s surprised Lisa didn’t pick one of the swanky places downtown, but he’s glad she didn’t. There are large windows all opening into the studio, which Dean isn’t very excited about though. He doesn’t need random strangers off the street watching his attempt to dance, thank you. He pulls into a parking spot and looks for Lisa’s Prius, but it doesn’t look like she’s here yet. He decides to sit in his car and wait for her.

Movement catches his eye and he sees a man enter the studio from a hallway inside. He’s wearing black dress pants and a simple white button down shirt, collar open slightly and sleeves rolled up. He goes over to a laptop sitting in the corner and starts fiddling with it before straightening and taking a few quick spins away from the corner, hips moving in time to a rhythm that Dean can’t hear. He ends up at the window almost directly across from Dean when he stops. Their eyes meet through the window and even from here Dean can see that the other man’s eyes are a piercing blue. The guy gives Dean a little smile and beckons him in with his finger.

Me? Dean silently asks with his finger to his chest. 

You, he mouths back, still smiling.

He was hoping not to have to go in without Lisa because he’s really not into small talk and there’s no way this isn’t going to be awkward, but now he has to. He grabs his keys out of the ignition and heads for the door.

Inside, the studio is all shining wood floors and carefully framed photos of couples dancing. Out front where Dean is parked there’s a busy street, but now that he’s inside he can see that the back windows face a small wooded area. It’s nice to see the green, grounding in a way that he needs right now.

“You are Dean, right?” The man asks.

“Yup.”

“Oh good. Because if you weren’t this would all be very awkward, wouldn’t it? I’m Castiel.” He holds out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, um…Castiel? Is that right?”

“Yes, that is correct. But you can call me Cas if you want to, just no Cassie,” he says with an exaggerated shudder.

Dean chuckles. “All right. Cas, no Cassie. Got it. Uh, sorry about my uh…” he motions clumsily over his body, “I had to come straight from work.” He feels uncomfortable in front of Cas because Cas has artfully tousled dark hair and the outfit looks at ease but also dressy, and he’s actually wearing shiny black dress shoes. Dean feels like at the least he probably should have put on a nicer pair of jeans this morning. These have holes, for crying out loud.

“Don’t worry about it. Nobody but me here anyway, right? What do you do for a living, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I’m a mechanic. I own Winchester and Sons, a few miles up the road that way,” he motions with his thumb, tries to come up with something interesting to add and fails.

“I can’t even change the oil in my car, so I have great respect for what you folks do,” Cas says earnestly. Dean thinks it has been a long time since he’s met anyone as present as Cas. It’s like he has no place to be but right there with you, as if he actually cares what you have to say. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his blue eyes focus in on Dean and don’t let up.

“It’s not that hard. I’m sure you could learn if you wanted to,” Dean says dismissively.

“Well you have more faith in my talent than I do, my friend. I think I’ll stick to dancing and let someone else figure out my car for me.”

Lisa arrives just as he’s finishing his sentence. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Castiel,” she says, quickly moving forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I got stuck at work longer than I wanted to and traffic was ridiculous. Hi baby,” she says to Dean, giving him a quick kiss on the mouth.

“It’s not a problem,” Cas reassures her, “You’re only a couple minutes late and I was learning a bit about Dean. Let’s get started, shall we?” He moves them down to the end of the dance floor where there’s a wall of mirrors. “I thought we could start with the waltz, like we discussed, if that’s still all right, Lisa? Dean, Lisa tells me you don’t have any experience with ballroom dancing. I think the waltz would be a good place for us to start. Lisa said she’s considering doing a rhumba for one of your dances, and the waltz has some similar footwork.”

“Okay,” Dean mutters, suddenly remembering just how uncomfortable he is about all of this.

“That will be great, sweetie,” Lisa adds.

“Good. I’m going to go change up this music a bit and we’ll get started.”

Lisa already knows most of the beginning steps, so Cas walks Dean through the basic box until he gets it, then shows him how to hold Lisa and how to move together. “Huh uh uh,” Cas says, tapping under Dean’s chin lightly with his fingertips, “Eyes on her, not on your feet. You don’t need to see where they’re going, you can feel it.” It’s actually a little easier when he looks up, even though it’s hard to force his eyes to stay off his feet. “Much better,” Cas murmurs, and steps back to watch them continue.

After they get through the basic box, Cas adds another step, and then another. Dean keeps messing up and forgetting where he’s going and Lisa sighing in frustration doesn’t do anything to help. “Okay, deep breath,” Cas tells them. “Dean, you’re doing great. You can’t expect to master all of this in a day.” They both try to loosen up as Cas starts the music again.

“All right, see this here?” Cas stops them, pointing to where their hands are joined. “You don’t have to grip her hand tightly, Dean. Just rest against each other, like so.” He holds Dean’s hand in a light grip before moving Dean’s hand back to Lisa’s. “You don’t have to have a firm hold on her hand to lead her around the floor. It’s all about keeping your frame, like we talked about, right?” He puts a hand on either side of Dean’s chest, forces him straighter. “Keep that tension in your arms. As long as you both hold your frame, all it takes is a small push in direction for her to know where you’re going to take her. Make sense?” Dean nods. “Okay, one more time from the top and we’ll be done for today.” 

It goes better than before, even though Dean still messes up a few times. Cas is all smiles and encouragement, but Dean still can’t wait to get out of there. “Really,” he thinks on his way home, “The things we do for love are ridiculous.”

**

Lisa makes them practice some more that evening, but it’s not as bad as Dean thinks it will be. They actually end up laughing a lot, which they haven’t done in a while, and apparently going to dance lessons equals some hot “thank you for doing this thing you didn’t want to do” sex, so all in all it’s mostly worth it.

The next night Lisa takes him shopping for some dress shoes because Cas said he’ll have a much easier time dancing if he’s not trying to drag work boots around the dance floor. He thinks maybe Cas is just trying to go easy on their floors, but when he tries it out at home later, he realizes it really is a lot easier to move through the steps when his feet aren’t sticking to the floor.

After shopping they go out to eat and it’s been a long time since they’ve spent this much time together just hanging out. It feels good, and the worry that has been eating at Dean’s gut for so long seems to be subsiding. Even things at the shop are going good, though Dean still hates computers and Charlie is pretty sure he’s got a geriatric brain trapped in a 28 year old's body. 

Things stay good until Friday afternoon when Lisa texts him and tells him they’re going to her parents’ house for dinner. He should have known it was coming. It’s been about a month since they’ve been there, and that’s a longer reprieve than he usually gets. He feels his chest tighten at the thought of another evening in that cold house. Mr. and Mrs. Braeden will make polite conversation laced with derision for all the things Dean cares about and shouldn’t in their estimation. Dean will leave feeling like a failure, a man unworthy of someone as accomplished as their daughter. 

They’ve never approved of Dean. When they found out Lisa was going out with him, they forbid her from seeing him again. Of course, teenagers being what they are, that plan backfired spectacularly. In fact, Dean’s pretty sure he lost his virginity when he did because Lisa was so mad at them. In the beginning, it felt adventurous and brave to stand against her parents. They were in it together, standing shoulder to shoulder. These days it feels different. Sometimes it feels like Lisa is on their side. Her comments are lighter, less tinged with venom, but it’s obvious she wants Dean to join her father’s business, to step away from his life and become someone else. It’s all under the guise of wanting Dean to be happier, more successful, but it doesn’t settle right. He’s grumpy thinking about it the rest of the day and Sam sends him home early, unable to put up with Dean’s dark looks any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner goes as expected, and Dean spends the rest of the weekend at the shop working on a 1964 Mustang for his friend Benny. The car is going to be cherry when he’s done with it. He can’t wait to get to the paint job. Custom paint jobs are his favorite part of these jobs. It’s the closest to “artist” that Dean is going to get. This one is going to be a candy midnight blue fading into a galaxy of stars along the bottom. It could be cheesy if it’s done wrong, but he knows he can do it in a way that makes it look magical and other-worldly instead. He itches to get it into the paint room, get lost in the sound of the the spray of paint and the hours of meticulous coating. But that’s a long way off. This weekend he’s still working on the engine, which has it’s own rewards. 

He tells himself he’s not avoiding Lisa, but deep down he knows it’s not true. The way she’d sided with her father at dinner makes him feel nauseated when he thinks about it. How could she ever think he’d be happy sitting in an office somewhere doing paperwork? What’s wrong with what he does? He makes good enough money and he’s great at what he does. How can that be wrong? 

Mostly he’s upset because he feels change crackling through his bones. It’s unnerving. There’s an image of what he thought his life would look like right now and there’s the reality. He’s holding onto the “what should have been” for all he’s worth, as if doing that can force it into reality. It makes him feel pulled apart inside. He pushes the thoughts away and goes back to work, turns up the tunes in an unsuccessful bid to drown out his thoughts. 

Tomorrow is Monday, he realizes, and Monday means dance lessons. His mind flashes to deep blue eyes and softly mussed dark hair for a moment. He can feel a blush creeping up his neck and he stops, stunned. The next thing he knows he’s gunning his car down the highway, heading for home and whiskey. Tomorrow will be different. It will. 

**  
Dean is nothing if not a master at repressing his feelings, so he’s managed to regain some of his equilibrium by the time he gets to work on Monday. He lets the normal groove of the garage carry him through the day until 3:45 when he leaves for the studio, carefully avoiding Sam and Jo’s questions as to what his Monday appointment is. It’s none of their business. 

When he gets to the studio, Castiel is stretching, a light Latin rhythm playing through the speakers. Castiel rises slowly from where he was touching his toes and smiles at Dean. “Hello, Dean,” he says warmly. 

“Hi Cas, uh, Castiel.”

“Cas is fine, really.”

“Just not Cassie,” Dean remembers. 

“Yes, exactly,” Cas says with another smile. 

“Seems like Lisa is late again, huh?” Dean shoves his hands down into his pockets. Feeling uncomfortable again, quietly cursing Lisa in his mind for being late yet again and leaving him in this position. 

Cas’ brow furrows. “She didn’t tell you? She called me and told me she couldn’t make it today. Since she knows all the basics anyway, she thought it would be good if we still did the lesson so you could keep learning.”

“Oh.” His voice sounds tight even to his own ears. He’s blushing with nerves and his fingers twitch in his pockets. 

“Is that alright with you? You don’t need to be uncomfortable. I have male students who work exclusively with me. I can give you pointers on leading while dancing the woman’s part. I’m a poor man’s substitute for Lisa to be sure, but I think we’ll get along all right.” 

“Yeah, yeah, no, of course, “ Dean stutters out. “No problem man. I definitely have a lot to learn.” His hand rubs across his neck in a way that he knows shows his nerves, but Cas just nods and switches the music to the waltz, leading Dean through a series of warm-up steps. 

“Let’s go over what we learned last week,” Cas tells Dean. He goes over the box with him again with Dean on his own, then hold out his hand for Dean to dance with him. Dean reminds himself that he’s a grown man and it’s ridiculous to get all squeamish about dancing with another man, so he allows Cas to take his hand, puts his other hand where he was shown to last week and Cas puts his hand on top of Dean’s shoulder, resting lightly. “Now remember you’re the one leading,” Cas says. He’s close, so close and Dean flicks his eyes up, only to quickly look back down when greeted by Castiel’s pink lips and long-lashed eyes only inches from his face. He feels the heat creeping up his neck again and ruthlessly stamps down his feelings. “Eyes up,” Cas commands, “Shoulders straight. That’s it.” 

They waltz slowly and carefully for a couple more minutes before Castiel breaks the hold to teach Dean some new steps. Dean feels relief flood him and realizes he’s been holding his breath. “You forgot to breathe, didn’t you?” Cas says. Dean tenses again. Does Cas know? “Don’t worry,” Cas goes on, “it happens to beginners all the time. You’re so focused on trying to get the steps right that you forget to breathe.” 

Dean gives a chuckle that comes out more strangled than he’d like and tries to brush it off. He manages to do pretty well the rest of the lesson, gaining confidence and comfort even when in Castiel’s grip. He finds himself laughing for real from time to time, mostly at his own clumsiness, but Cas is endlessly patient. Honestly, Dean realizes he’s doing better without Lisa here. Her sighs and frustration only served to make him more inept. 

It makes him uncomfortable to realize that he’s a little sad when Castiel tells him their time is up. He cranks the music in his car on the way home and tries to let his mind drift to other things. When Lisa asks him later how it went, he doesn’t have to lie when he says “It was good.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean meets Louie on his first day of first grade. His black hair and shining brown eyes are set against tan skin that stands out amidst his classmates. “Hi,” Dean says shyly. 

“Hola,” Louie replies softly. HIs voice is like music. It makes Dean feel warm and happy. He grabs Louie’s hand and leads him to the edge of the sandbox. 

“I’m Dean. Do you want to be friends?” Louie nods, hand still pressed firmly to Dean’s palm. Dean smiles and doesn’t move his hand. 

“How was school?” His mom asks at the dinner table that night. 

“It was great!” Dean enthuses. “I made a friend! His name is Louie and his family moved here all the way from Spain. He’s beautiful.” Dean’s voice goes soft. 

His dad’s head snaps up. “What did you just say?”

“He’s beautiful, Dad” Dean says, too caught up in his excitement to notice the tension in his dad’s jaw, or the way his mom starts nervously moving things around the table. “He’s got such big brown eyes and his skin is tan, but not like mine in the summer, like all the time. I think he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

“Dean,” his father says sternly, “That’s not the way you talk about a boy. Why are you thinking about how he looks so much anyway? Aren’t there any pretty little girls in your class?”

“John,” Mary says softly, pleadingly. 

“I…” Dean’s brow furrows in confusion, his insides feel funny all of a sudden, “did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey, of course not,” his mom says. 

“Mary, no son of mine is going to sit around talking about how beautiful other little boys are.” He turns to Dean. “You didn’t do anything bad, it’s just...that’s not what men do, you understand? Words like pretty and beautiful are for girls. You shouldn’t be looking at your friends that way. You want to be a man, right? You want to be like me, right?”

Dean nods and that seems to be enough for his dad, who goes silent. Dean’s little mind isn’t sure what happened, but he knows talking about how beautiful Louie is makes his dad mad, and he doesn’t want that. His mom pats his head sadly as she tucks him into bed that night, smoothes her hand across his cheek before giving him an extra goodnight kiss. 

Dean never mentions Louie to his dad again. The next week he tells his dad about a little girl named Grace who has curly blonde hair and his dad smiles approvingly. He doesn’t tell him that he’d rather look at Louie anyway, or that he holds Louie’s hand all through lunch, even though the other kids make fun of them for it. Louie’s hand is soft and warm in his and Dean feels happy and safe. He tucks it away like a secret. 

Dean wakes up with tears at the edge of his eyes. He was dreaming about the last time he saw Louie. His family moved back to Spain during the second grade, leaving a heartbroken Dean behind. Louie’s big brown eyes were brimming with tears and Dean thought his chest would split in two. Louie had bent forward and kissed Dean on the cheek before his Mom called to him that it was time to leave, smiling sadly at Dean. 

Dean lays in bed for a long time thinking. Lisa left early that morning, and he’s happy to have the bedroom to himself. He hasn’t thought about Louie in a long time. After Louie, he focused on girls. It made his dad happy, and he didn’t have to feel like he was hiding a shameful secret. Sure there was that one time with Rhonda Hurley and her pink satin panties, but that’s a secret Dean intends to carry to his grave, and not only because he doesn’t think “We were on a break” will fly with Lisa any more than it did with Rachel on “Friends.” 

There was a succession of girls that he took to the movies and made out with in the back row and then there was Lisa. He told himself that the fact that he occasionally gave a double take to another guy on the street was just something guys did. He’s human, after all. Noticing other guys doesn’t make him gay or bi or whatever, it simply means he has eyes. Dr. Sexy doesn’t count. Everyone is in love with Dr. Sexy. Yes, Dean Winchester is 100% heterosexual. He’s a man’s man. He’s his father’s son. He drives a hot car and sleeps with a hot woman and this is who he is. This is his life.

Except...his mind flashes to Cas’ hand in his without his permission. He feels shame twisting his stomach, just like it did when he was six, but he knows that dancing with Cas makes him feel like holding Louie’s hand did in first grade- safe and happy. He doesn’t say it that articulately in his mind. He doesn’t allow himself to say the words. He doesn’t allow himself to admit that the thought of Cas makes the corners of his mouth want to turn up and his heart do a fluttery dance in his chest that he hasn’t felt for years. 

He flops over and buries his face in the pillow with a groan. “It’s just cold feet,” he mutters into the pillow, “All guys get cold feet. No big deal.”

**  
“You’re in the office with Charlie today,” Sam informs him when he gets to work.

“What? Nooo,” Dean whines at him. 

“Dean, you said you were going to cooperate with this new system.”

“I must have been high,” Dean mutters, but he stomps into the office anyway. Once again though, it’s pretty much impossible to stay mad with Charlie around. She beams at him and starts excitedly explaining another aspect of the new system. He wishes he shared her enthusiasm. 

Charlie is in the middle of trying to explain something to him, but Dean’s brain keeps drifting off. He’s having a hard time focusing when his mind won’t shut up. He’s flashing back to first grade and trying to figure out what, if anything, his feelings for Louie meant. 

Suddenly his chair spins and he’s looking right into Charlie’s face. “Talk to me,” she says.   
Dean is so distracted he blurts out, “How young were you when you knew you liked girls?” The instant the words are out of his mouth he comes to his senses and slams his head into the desk. “Oh my God, Charlie, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t even know you. That was so beyond inappropriate and I don’t even know what to say.” He knows his face is beet red and he cannot believe he just did that. 

“Hey, Dean, calm down. It’s fine. You obviously have a lot on your mind this morning and I can tell you’re not just asking out of idle curiosity, are you?” She leans down and forces him to look her in the eye. 

Dean shakes his head dumbly. 

“I was young. Probably five or six. Of course I didn’t realize what it was at the time, but looking back, yeah, things were already different for me than the other girls. There was this little girl, Jenny Glossman, I can still see her face in my mind to this day. She was my first crush. I just couldn’t stop staring at her. I didn’t get it when other girls talked about boys. They were just my buddies. They didn’t make my heart flutter like girls did.”

“So you never, uh, dated guys?”

“Nah. I was just never attracted. Thankfully for me, I had parents who understood what was going on. They never pushed me towards guys and when I started going out with girls, they were cool with it.” Dean’s hands clench the armrests, and he finds himself staring hard at the floor. Charlie reaches out and pats his hand gently. “I’m guessing you weren’t that lucky.”

“I’m not gay,” Dean says quickly. “I’m engaged. To a woman.” He feels his face going closed off and defiant. 

“I’m not saying you are, Dean, but-” Charlie is cut off by Sam coming back into the office. She must see the frantic look on Dean’s face because she instantly switches back to showing him how to use the computer system. If Sam notices the flush on his cheeks, he must attribute it to frustration, and doesn’t mention it. 

Later, when they’re alone again, Charlie writes her number on a scrap of paper and hands it to Dean. “Listen, I know you might not want to talk about this, but if you do, please call me. We can do coffee or something.”

“Okay,” Deans says, folding it and tucking it in his wallet, “Maybe.” He hopes he manages to convey the unspoken don’t get your hopes up. 

“Only if you want to,” Charlie says. She lays a hand on his shoulder for a moment and then leaves. 

Dean tries to shake off their conversation. It’s hard to believe it actually happened. He can’t believe he said that, and that he let Charlie know even that much. Not that she really knows anything. What is there to know? Dean is not gay. He is attracted to girls. Always has been. He wasn’t faking his attraction to Lisa. He doesn’t even know why he asked Charlie that. It was stupid. It doesn’t matter. He’s marrying Lisa in less than six months and then what does it matter whether he’s attracted to guys or not? He just had a moment of weakness, that’s all. Could happen to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be upset by how Mary handled the situation with Dean's feelings for Louie.Often in the fandom Mary is shown as being unreservedly supportive of Dean's sexuality. I want to emphasize that it doesn't make her a bad person, it makes her a flawed person. Often moms are caught in a place between trying to keep peace in the home and trying to do what's best for their children. They don't always make the best choice. You also have to remember that when Dean was at that age, the world was a very different place and Mary might have had her own fears about what it would mean if Dean was gay. Just want you to know, I do love Mary, I just felt that this was a true reflection of where I wanted to show their family at that time.


	6. Chapter 6

The next week Lisa is able to make it to the lesson and by then Dean has been able to talk himself out of almost all the misgivings he’s had recently. He avoids looking Cas in the eye, or looking at Cas at all and focuses on Lisa. The lesson goes fine. Castiel is as patient and professional as ever.

So Dean learns his new steps and practices at home with Lisa and life goes on. There’s a few more uncomfortable charity dinners. There’s a round or two of lackluster sex, but it’s sex, and it’s nice. Every couple has their slumps. They’ve both been busy, disconnected. That’s okay. It happens. Everything will be alright. 

“I’m going to be out of town next week,” Lisa tells him. They’re lying in bed and her finger is tracing up and down his bare chest.

“All week?” Dean asks.

“Yes. I have meetings in Atlanta and I’m going to spend the weekend with my friend Amy. Make sure you keep your appointment with Castiel, I want you to get that spin that you were struggling with so much last week.”

Dean tenses. “We’ve got plenty of time. Can’t I just wait until you get back?”

“We don’t have plenty of time, Dean. And we’ll have less time to work on this as things pick up closer to the wedding. I want you to get solid now. Please? For me?” She turns her face towards him and gives a pouty face.

“Okay, for you,” He tells her, leaning over to brush his lips against hers. He hopes she can’t feel the jackrabbiting of his heart.   
**  
Dean has done a good job of stuffing everything down the past two weeks. He feels almost normal again. But when he sees Castiel through the window of the studio, it all comes crashing down. Castiel is wearing dark jeans and a sky blue shirt and his hips are swaying to a rhythm that Dean can’t hear. He bangs his forehead against the steering wheel harder than he intended. It smarts and he slams his hand down too, for good measure. “Fuck. Shit.” He forces himself to take a few deep breaths and get out of the car. He can do this. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets. His voice is a deep rumble that shoots down to Dean’s core. He takes a step closer to Dean and then frowns. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good, and there’s a red bump on your forehead.” Dean nods miserably. Can this evening get any worse? Now Cas is leading him by the arm to a chair and carefully touching the bump on Dean’s forehead. Yup, it can get worse. 

“I’m fine, Cas,” He assures him. His voice doesn’t come out as steady as he’d like, but it will have to do. He gets to his feet. “We should get started.”

“If you insist.” Cas still looks worried, but he starts the music, guides Dean through the warm ups. The lesson is disastrous. Dean can’t focus with Castiel so close, and his forehead hurts and his mind is far too busy. He almost stomps his foot in frustration after messing up the turn for the fourth time. 

Castiel’s hand on his arm brings him back to himself. “Dean, this isn’t working. You’re not well, and you’re obviously distracted.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean mumbles. He can’t look Cas in the eye. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to all of us. This is just a dance, it’s not what is important right now. You are important.” Dean looks up at him then, feels his heart stutter, his mouth unable to form words. “This was my last lesson for today and I was going to go get some dinner. Do you have plans? Would you like to come with me? I know Lisa’s out of town. You seem like you could use someone to talk to.”

His first instinct is to say no, but then he reasons it could be good. Maybe spending time and learning more about Castiel will help him to get over whatever this is. “Sure. Again, I’m really sorry about this, Cas.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Are you familiar with Mick’s Diner?”

Dean grins. “Yup! Best pie in the state.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Castiel’s smile is almost blinding. “I’ll close up and meet you there?”

“Sounds good.” Dean finds himself smiling as he heads to his car. A slice of Mick’s pie is just what he needs. He’s sure whatever this thing is with Castiel will go away soon. Maybe they can even be friends. 

Castiel arrives a few minutes after Dean has slid into a booth at the back of the diner. He waves Cas over. “Didn’t take you for a diner guy,”Dean says. 

Cas chuckles. “I’m not sure what makes someone a ‘diner guy’” he does air quotes that make Dean think fondly: the big dork. “but yes, I’m quite fond of diners. Maybe it’s rebellion. I grew up in fine-dining restaurants and ate more than my share of fancy food. There’s something comforting about biting into a good old-fashioned American burger.” Castiel looks like his mouth is watering just thinking about it. 

Not that Dean is looking at Castiel’s mouth. He isn’t. “Dean honey, hello stranger!” Their waitress presses a kiss onto the top of Dean’s head and then follows it up by smacking him on the back of the head. “It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you.” 

“Sorry, Ellen,” Dean says. He squeezes her against his side in a quick hug. Castiel is looking at them with a bemused grin. 

“I guess you really are familiar with this diner, I never get greeted like that,” Castiel says with a wink. 

“I didn’t know you knew Castiel, Dean. I’m surprised you two haven’t run into each other here before. Cas is one of my best customers.” Ellen smiles at him and Castiel looks pleased. 

“He’s uh, giving Lisa and I dance lessons for the wedding,” Dean says sheepishly. 

“You’re in good hands then because boy can this man dance.” Castiel looks like he’s about to blush. “Jo tried lessons for a while when she was younger. She dragged me to one of the competitions and we got to see Castiel dance the tango. I’ll never forget it. Jo worshipped him.”

“Wait, Jo took dance lessons? Oh my gosh, I’m so going to give her a hard time tomorrow. Jo is a mechanic at my garage now,” Dean says to Cas. 

“It really is a small world,” Cas says wonderingly. 

“What can I get you boys?” Castiel orders a cheeseburger and fries and a chocolate shake and Dean orders the same except for having a slice of pecan pie instead of the shake. Ellen pats them both before leaving and says she’ll send Sandy out with their orders. 

It’s a lot easier to talk to Castiel than Dean thought it would be. He learns that the studio is owned by Castiel’s brother, Gabriel, who also named it. The look on Cas’ face says he feels the same way about the name that Dean does. “Gabriel thinks he’s funny,” says Cas bitterly, but there’s fondness in his face all the same. He learns a lot of other things about Castiel, but is left with a few mysteries, such as why Castiel doesn’t seem to want to talk about any of his family except Gabriel. 

Dean finds himself telling Cas how their dad used to take him and Sam to this diner every Sunday morning. He tells him how Ellen has been “Aunt Ellen” as long as he can remember, even though they’re not related by blood. He gets misty-eyed talking about his mom and Cas reaches across the table and brushes Dean’s hand lightly before mercifully changing the subject. Dean doesn’t remember the last time he opened up this quickly to anyone. It’s something he has a hard time doing even with the people he knows, but somehow it’s easy with Cas. 

“Thanks, man,” he tells Castiel as they part ways. “That was- that was good.” He taps Castiel awkwardly on the shoulder. Castiel just nods and looks at him, a small smile playing on his lips. There’s something in his eyes that Dean can’t quite name, but he shakes it off and heads home. It was a good evening, he thinks as he crawls into bed. Maybe all he needed was to talk to someone.


	7. Chapter 7

Tuesday morning Dean wakes up with a raging hard-on. He glances at the clock and sees he still has time, so he’s got his hand wrapped around his dick before he even remembers what he was dreaming about. His hand stutters as he remembers the feel of a hard body under his hands, deep blue eyes and dark spikes of hair that his fingers were tangled in. The memory doesn’t do anything to lesson the ache in his dick, and his hand is moving again of it’s own volition. They say fantasies are healthy, don’t they? He’s still a bit hazy with sleep and it’s not until he moans out “Cas” as he comes that it all hits him like a truck. 

He cleans himself up quickly and goes to find his wallet. He’s pulling out the piece of paper with Charlie’s number and dialing before he can stop himself. “Hey Charlie, it’s Dean. Is that offer still good? Can we talk?”

They agree to meet after work. He’s not sure what he expects to get out of it, but he knows he feels like he’s going to explode if he can’t talk to someone about this stuff, and there’s something about Charlie that makes him feel safe. What’s with him and trusting strangers lately? The thing is, Castiel and Charlie don’t feel like strangers. They feel like they’ve been in his life forever. 

He’s distracted all day at work. The third time he drops his wrench it almost lands on Jo’s foot. “Dude! What gives? Are you in there?” She waves a hand in front of Dean’s face. “Earth to Dean’s brain.”

“I’m right here, you brat,” He teases, stealing her hat. He leads her in a merry chase around the garage until she finally jumps on his back and won’t let go, nuzzling her nose behind his ear until he squirms. “You are the worst,” he tells her fondly, finally giving her hat back. 

“Thank you!” She says with a bow. “But seriously Deano, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he tells her. “I’m going to be fine.”

“Going to be?”

“Yeah. I’m not...I’m just dealing with some stuff, okay? But it’s all going to be okay, I promise.” He tries to make his smile reassuring. 

“Okay. You know I’m here if you need me.”

“Yeah yeah, no chickflick moments.”

She sticks her tongue out at him and smacks him on the butt before heading back to the car she was working on. Dean smiles. Stuff is fucked up right now, but he’s got good friends. He’s lucky. 

**  
Dean’s hands twist nervously as he waits for Charlie at the coffee shop that night. He keeps second-guessing his decision to meet with her. It makes all this feel real. “Gosh, you look like death,” Charlie greets him, “Spill it.” 

He does. He tells her everything he’s been feeling. Everything Cas makes him feel. He tells her about Louie and about how he never allowed himself to think about guys that way again when he was growing up. Charlie just listens patiently. When he’s all done she looks at him for a long time. 

“Okay, you might hate me for this, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t say it. Right now it doesn’t really matter what your sexuality is or isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, that’s something for you to figure out, but there’s something else you have to think about first that you haven’t really even talked about.” She leans across the table and looks him in the eye. “You’re engaged Dean. If you were happy about who you’re getting married to, you wouldn’t be questioning all of this to start with.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean says. He feels anger well up in him. How dare she talk like that to him? She has no idea what she’s talking about. Except for how she does and Dean knows it. Charlie has backed up a bit and she’s chewing on her lip, looking a bit worried.

“I really am sorry, Dean, I just can’t in all good conscience sit here and talk with you about your sexuality when there’s this elephant in the room we’re not talking about. I wasn’t built that way.”

“No, you’re right,” Dean’s clutching his head with his hands, a mass of emotions he doesn’t know how to process overwhelming him. “You’re absolutely right. God, what am I going to do?”

Charlie’s face is all understanding when she looks at him. “That’s up to you, Dean. I can’t answer you that. But as Shakespeare said ‘If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well  
It were done quickly’.”

Dean knows his smile is sad. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you for being honest. You’re a true friend.” They get up and Charlie gives him a hug. Dean finds himself pressing a kiss to her temple. Yup, he’s definitely gained another sister. 

Charlie smiles up at him. “It’s going to be okay, Dean. I promise.” He tries to believe her. 

**  
With Lisa still gone, he has plenty of time to think and it’s good. It feels like grieving, letting go of this life he thought he was going to have, and of Lisa too. By Sunday He knows that he doesn’t want to marry her anymore, but it’s not an easy thing to realize. He still loves her. She’s been part of his life for so long it’s hard to imagine it without her. They had always been friends first, lovers second, and it’s not going to be that way anymore. Calling off the wedding is probably going to make them enemies. It makes his stomach twist thinking about it. 

He’s not sleeping well, but in a lot of ways he feels more settled than he has in a long time. There’s something in knowing he’s making the right choice. It’s the right choice for both of them too. It’s not fair to either of them to marry if his heart isn’t in it. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, really. He can see now all the lies he was telling himself to keep going. The clarity is startling. He can’t believe he’s been such an idiot, although he supposes it shouldn’t be a surprise, given his history. He’s sure Sam wouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been more than willing to point out Dean’s “Emotional Constipation” as he likes to call it. 

Dean’s phone vibrates on the nightstand beside him and he picks it up to find a text from Lisa telling him she won’t be back in time for the lesson tomorrow night but will be waiting for him when he gets home. Apologize to Cas for me? she asks. Dean thinks about how much it says that she’s barely called this week. He’s thankful for it, to be honest, and that says a lot about the state of their relationship too. 

He should text her back, say something has come up and he can’t make the lesson either. After all, it’s for a dance that he’ll never be having. But he can’t bring himself to give up the chance to see Cas again. He thinks maybe he could even like dancing. Not that he’s ever, ever going to tell anyone that. His dad...shit his dad would disown him for sure if he was still alive to do it. His mom would be happy though. She’d love to waltz with Dean. He knows it. The thought makes the corners of his mouth curl up in a fond smile. He runs a hand lovingly over the picture of her on his nightstand. “Miss you mom.”

**  
Dean is greeted at the studio by a short man with sandy blonde hair. “You must be Dean,” he says before Dean can say anything. He does a sort of walking spin around Dean and nods approval. “Goodness, my brother did not do you justice,” he says with a smirk. He’s holding a lollipop in one hand that he pops into his mouth with a loud smack. 

“Excuse me?” Dean’s eyebrows are reaching for the ceiling. 

“Cassie told me you were pretty, but he needs to enhance his vocabulary.”

Just then Castiel comes in from the back room looking frazzled and red-faced. “Gabriel!” he says sharply, “Please stop harassing my clientele. I see you’ve had the misfortune of meeting my brother,” he says to Dean. “I told you he likes to think he’s funny,” he adds with a glare at Gabriel. 

Dean’s stunned for a moment. His mind is still reeling with the idea that Cas talked to his brother about him, apparently even told him he was “pretty,” if that’s really the word he used. He has a distinct feeling that Gabriel’s version of any story might not be quite what it should be. “I see what you mean,” he says finally. He can feel that his face is flushed. 

Gabriel is unphased. “You love me,” he tells Cas with a smirk. “Nice to meet you, Deano!” He’s out the door with a whirl before Dean can even respond. 

Castiel looks miserable. “I truly am sorry, Dean. My brother’s sense of humor is often far from appropriate.”

“It’s fine, Cas, really. Don’t sweat it.” Dean’s not lying. In fact, he feels a smile coming on. He’s peaceful in a way he hasn’t been for a while. “Let’s dance.” If Castiel is surprised by Dean’s sudden enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it, just starts the music and leads Dean into the lesson. 

Dean is looser and more focused than he’s ever been and it shows. He’s always been athletic, and now he lets himself settle into his body in much the same way he used to do playing soccer or basketball. Things start clicking in his head. It’s nice to focus on steps and where he’s leading Cas instead of the myriad of other thoughts trying to push into his head. They’re able to dance for a few minutes before Dean totally loses his place and has to stop. 

“Wow, that was great,” Cas tells him. “Have you been practicing a lot?”

“A little. Not as much as I should be. I guess things are just kind of making sense now.”

“Well whatever you’re doing, it’s working for you. You’ve shown tremendous progress. You’re a natural.” 

“Thanks. I uh, I actually like dancing?”

“Is that a question?” Cas says with a smile.

Dean laughs, “I guess I’m just surprised, you know? Never thought I’d take to ballroom dancing of all things. Sorry, that sounded offensive, given that it’s your profession. That’s not what I meant.”

“No offense taken. Let’s go through that last step again and then try everything from the beginning. Watch your frame. You were a little too loose there at the end, okay?” They dance. Dean allows himself a few stolen moments to appreciate the way Cas feels in his arms, a few quick glances to his full pink lips and midnight blue eyes. It makes his heart stutter and his feet stumble, so he tries not to do it too often. Castiel just guides him gently back on track when he loses his place. 

Dean lingers by the door when it’s time to leave. He doesn’t know when he’ll see Cas again and he can’t help watching the way he moves, appreciating the long lines of his body, the way his muscles are defined but not showy. Castiel is beautiful. Dean winces at the word. He flashes back to that long ago night at the dinner table “You don’t say other boys are beautiful.” It’s true though, he thinks defiantly. He is beautiful. And so was Louie.

“Dean, are you all right?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just got lost in thought there for a minute.”

“Drive home safe, Dean. I’ll see you next week.”

Dean nods even though he knows he probably won’t. Now is not the time to tell Cas about him and Lisa. He’s dreading the conversation they’ll have to have when he gets home. It makes him want to throw up thinking about it. He climbs into his car and drives much more slowly than usual on the way home.

**  
Lisa greets him with a kiss on the cheek and he’s relieved it’s not on the mouth. Somehow that would make this more awkward. She must see something on his face because she says sharply “What’s wrong?”

He takes her hand and leads her to the couch. “Lisa, we need to talk.” Like a band-aid, he   
tells himself, just rip it off like a band-aid. Nothing is going to make this easy. 

“Dean, what’s going on?” 

He holds her hands in his, traces his thumbs across her skin. “I can’t do this, Lisa. I can’t marry you, I’m so sorry.” 

He’s expecting anger, but when Lisa speaks her voice sounds small and frightened. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying we can’t get married, Lisa. Neither of us are the people we were when we got together and we’d be miserable. Can’t you see that?” He keeps his voice soft, pleading. The look in her eyes makes him ache. 

“Dean, don’t do this. I love you.”

“Do you? Do you love me, Dean, just like I am, or do you love the idea of who I could be if I joined your father’s business and started being happy about attending big events and became someone else?”

“I…” She falters and is silent. There’s a few brief moments of silence and then he can see something like resignation cross her features. Her eyes brim with tears. “I want to love you.” 

Dean pulls her into his arms and lets her tears fall on his shoulder. “I know you do,” he whispers into her hair. They cry together for a little while. 

Lisa’s breathing evens out and her voice sounds a little stronger when she speaks. “‘People change, and forget to tell each other.’ I read that somewhere once. I guess it fits you and me pretty well.” She sits up and looks at him with red-rimmed eyes. 

“Yeah, I guess it does. I wish…”

“Me too. I do love you Dean, but you’re right. We want different things now and we’d make each other crazy. We’d end up hating each other, and I don’t want that.”

“Me either. You’re an amazing woman, Lisa. You deserve someone who can be everything you want them to be.”

Her tears start falling again and she reaches up to cup his face. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”

“You said ‘fuck’,” Dean says in awe. Lisa never swears. 

Lisa smacks him on the shoulder and laughs through her tears. “Shut up, you jerk.”

He pulls her into another hug. “I’m going to miss you too.” They pull apart and it feels final in a way that makes Dean want to cry again. “Can I sleep in the guest bedroom tonight or should I call Sam?”

“No, you can stay. That’s fine. I’m not going to force you out right away. We have too many years between us for that. You can stay here until you figure out another place to live, okay?”

“Thanks, Lis.”

“Dean, thank you. I’m not happy, but you were right. Thanks for being brave enough to do what I couldn’t.” 

He just nods wordlessly and heads upstairs to give them both some space. It’s going to be awkward living together until he can find someplace new. Sam wouldn’t mind him staying at his place. He’ll call tomorrow. Tonight he feels too worn out to think.


	8. Chapter 8

There’s noise in the kitchen when he wakes up. Lisa making breakfast, no doubt. He’s a few seconds from going down the steps to steal a morning kiss when he remembers. Being with her is like muscle memory, and it’s going to take a while to retrain his mind. He sits on the edge of the bed and can’t figure out how he feels. He’s sad, but there’s a lightness too, a burden that’s been lifted. 

He doesn’t want to get up while Lisa’s still there, so he picks up the phone and dials instead. “Heya Sammy.”

“Dean, is everything alright? You sound like crap and it’s 5:30 in the morning.”

“I’m okay, Sammy. I just need a place to stay for a while, thought maybe I could stay with you?”

“Of course. But what’s going on? You and Lisa doing something to the house?”

“Me and Lisa aren’t ‘me and Lisa’ anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. You okay?” Dean can hear papers shuffling, the creak of Sam settling back in his chair. He’s probably been up for an hour studying already. The kid’s a hard worker. Dean couldn’t be prouder if he’d raised him himself. 

“You know what? I’m pretty good. I mean, it’s not fun, but we both agreed it’s the right thing to do. She even offered to let me stay here until I get my own place, but it’s gonna be awkward for both of us. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, no man, of course. You can stay with me as long as you need to. We could pick up some of your stuff after work today.”

“I can fit everything I need into my car. The rest I can leave until I get my own place, I think. I don’t think I’ll make it into the shop today though. Nothing there the rest of the crew can’t handle, and I can get my shit together here. Want to put most of my stuff in the guest room, so Lisa doesn’t have to stare at it when she gets home.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yup. I’ll text you before I head over. See ya.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.” He hangs up and calls the shop next. He’s thankful when Bobby answers, tells him something came up and he won’t be in today. He doesn’t plan on telling Bobby what happened, but he does anyway, even ends up asking him to tell the rest of the gang. It will save him having to tell everyone. 

He shoots Charlie a quick text. You were right. Thanks. Engagement’s off.

She texts back a few minutes later r u ok?

I’m good. It was the right thing.

Let me know if u want to talk about it

Sure thing

By the time he’s done with his calls, he’s heard Lisa leave the house. He goes to the kitchen and makes coffee, stands in the pool of light by the kitchen window and drums his fingers against the kitchen sink. It’s like every other morning, and like no other morning at all. He drinks his coffee and lets the warmth of the sun soak in and steady him. 

After showering, he looks around the bedroom. He decides to start with what he’ll need at Sam’s. He pulls out a suitcase and starts packing. Clothing first. Mostly soft t-shirts and jeans, he won’t have a need for his dressier clothing for a while, he figures. Underwear, socks, toothbrush and toothpaste follow quickly, along with everything else he’ll need for day to day stuff. 

It’s harder than he thinks it will be. Sometimes he forgets why he’s packing. For a moment, he’ll be convinced he’s just packing for a trip. His limbs don’t feel like his own, like he’s moving in a dream world. You spend most of twelve years with someone, they seep into your skin. They become a part of who you are. They’d been off and on through the years, sure. There were the fights and the times apart and the limited contact while Lisa was away at college for four years, but she’d been a part of his life for so long, a force and presence that had shaped him. He has to orientate himself again, like the earth having to find something new to orbit around. 

Once he’s done packing his suitcase he starts moving the rest of his stuff to the closet in the guest room. He moves the picture of them on his nightstand too, tucking it away where Lisa won’t find it. He’s not trying to scrub them away, there’s plenty more pictures of them around, but he’s going to let Lisa decide what she wants to do with them. This is her house now. He just doesn’t want her to have to deal with looking at his crap whenever she’s here. He doesn’t want to hurt her anymore than he already has. 

It’s late afternoon by the time he’s done and has his car packed. He leaves a note for Lisa. Tells her he left stuff in the guest bedroom and to let him know if she’s not okay with that. He doesn’t know if his luck will last, if she’ll decide to be angry soon. He wouldn’t blame her. She could be married by now, have a family. She’s spent a lot of years on him, and he threw it away. But it was her choice too, and maybe they don’t have to be enemies. 

He texts Sam, but he can’t get back to the apartment for an hour to let Dean in, so he goes to Mick’s. Ellen is working and when she sees Dean’s face she tells Sandy she’s on break and slides into the booth across from him after putting in his order. He spills it all immediately, feeling tears pricking his eyes for the first time all day, something about her motherly understanding. She doesn’t seem surprised by the break-up. 

“You did the right thing, honey.”

“I guess so. Why does it feel so crappy?”

“The right thing often does, but it’s going to be worth it, I promise. I gotta’ get back to work.” She gets up and hugs him, pressing her lips against his temple. “You’re going to be just fine.” He hugs her back and tries not to think about how much he misses his mom.


	9. Chapter 9

For the next two weeks things settle into a rhythm. He works at the shop, looks at a few apartments, listens to Sam talk about a cute blonde at school that he’s obviously falling hard for. It feels natural to be living with Sam. Laughing over stupid jokes that only the two of them get. FIghting over the shower in the morning. Sam complaining about Dean leaving his dishes in the sink. It’s comfortable. Not comfortable enough to make him want to stay though. It’s fun for now, but he needs his own space, as does Sam. They’re better apart. Closer, in some ways, without all the fighting they inevitably do when in tight quarters with one another. It’s been good for these couple weeks, but Dean knows it’s only a matter of time before Sam starts butting his nose into his life and he does it back and they both end up resenting one another. They love each other fiercely, it’s just better when they see slightly less of each other. 

Half-way through the third week, he finds an apartment. It’s a small one bedroom close to the shop, which means it’s not in a great part of town. He doesn’t mind, and he’s trying to keep his expenses down. He’s doing fine financially, but he has some things he’d like to do floating around the back of his mind, and they all take money. He’s not going to throw it all away on a nice apartment. 

He arranges a time when Lisa is gone to go get the rest of his stuff. Ash, Jo, Charlie, Sam, and even Bobby and Ellen come and help him move. It doesn’t take long before all his stuff is there and they’re sitting on the living room floor drinking beer and eating pizza. 

“So furniture,” Charlie says, “It’s a thing that a lot of people have.”

“Yeah, kind of forgot about that part,” Dean admits sheepishly. 

“I’m taking you shopping this weekend. Jo can come too if she wants.”

“Yes please!” Jo says immediately. “Dragging Dean around stores all weekend talking about decorating choices sounds delightful.” She rubs her hands together gleefully. 

“I hate you both,” Dean informs them. 

**  
Shopping could be worse. He laughs more than he thought he would, even though sometimes it’s at himself. The girls are happy when he manages to pick out a couch and a chair, and they also insist on a proper bed and mattress set. “You’re too old to be sleeping on an air mattress for long,” Jo says, sticking her tongue out at him. He punches her on the arm and does not tell her that his back has been bothering him ever since he moved. There are things she doesn’t need to know. 

“And make it a queen,” Charlie adds. “Not memory foam because that feels pretty great, but it’s super hard to have creative sex on it. It’s nice to have a little bounce now and then. A pillow top, maybe?”

Dean is blushing bright red. “Um, don’t think that’s going to be something I have to worry about, Charlie.”

“You say that now,” She says blithely, “but you never know. Gotta’ keep your options open.” 

Jo is snickering beside him and Dean does not, he does not, he does not think about Castiel the minute Charlie starts talking about sex. 

“Oh my god!” Jo says suddenly, “You’re totally thinking about having sex with someone right now.”

“A specific someone,” Charlie adds, analyzing his face. Curse girls and their observational skills. 

“Shut up,” he tell them, attempting a glare.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Jo exclaims, jumping up and down, “I haven’t seen you blush this much in...ever. This. is. awesome.” 

Dean can only shake his head helplessly and allow himself to be dragged over to the beds. Charlie does talk him into a queen. He tells himself it’s just smart to think about the future and tries not to blush when Charlie starts talking about “room to maneuver” and testing mattresses out for just the right bounce. “The perfect bed,” She tells Dean, “Will give you a great night’s sleep and also be a great place to have fun all night long, if you know what I mean,” She wiggles her eyebrows at him. 

“I think everyone knows what you mean,” he tells her dryly, but lets himself be talked into a queen mattress set that’s just the right level of firmness and also won’t drain his entire savings to buy. They arrange to have everything delivered the following day and head out, the girls looking smug as they each latch onto one of his arms. 

“Let’s go to Mick’s to celebrate,” Jo says as she skips along beside him. 

“Oh, yes please. I’m still having inappropriate dreams about their cherry pie,” Charlie chimes in. 

Dean grins. Unlike everything else today, he’s happy to be talked into going to Mick’s, but he makes a show of doing them a big favor anyway while he leads them to the car. 

They’ve just slid into a booth at Mick’s when Dean hears a voice at his elbow. “Hello, Dean.” Castiel stands at the end of the table, looking a little uncomfortable. He’s wearing a white dress shirt like the one he was wearing when Dean first met him, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tan arms. 

Dean is temporarily speechless. It’s been close to a month since he’s seen Castiel. He’s not prepared for the way he wants to drag him in and kiss the long line of his throat, dig his fingers into that brown mass of hair. “Hey, Cas,” He finally manages. His voice comes out more hoarse than he was hoping for, but at least they can all stop staring awkwardly at each other. “These are my friends, Jo and Charlie. This is Castiel. He teaches dance at Heavenly Dance.”

“Jo and I have met,” Castiel says with an easy smile to her. “You still giving them hell on the dance floor, Jo?”

She’s looking between him and Dean with a small crease between her eyebrows, but turns and smiles brightly. “Sorry Cas, I’m more into the dirty dancing these days, you’d be horrified.”

Castiel laughs then, and Dean is stunned by his full, gummy smile, the way it pushes his nose up until it crinkles at the top. “You know, Jo, I’m not a total prude. I’ve done my share of getting down and dirty in my day,” Cas tells her with a wink. Dean thinks he’s going to die. He’s going to die right here in Mick’s diner because Castiel is too sexy to let him live. 

“Are you meeting someone here, Castiel?” Charlie asks him.

“No, just thought I’d stop by for a bite after lessons. I do that from time to time.”

“Why don’t you join us? We haven’t even ordered yet. The more the merrier, right?” She kicks Dean under the table and raises her eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, definitely, come eat with us, Cas. If you want to, that is,” he gets out. 

“I- yes, that would be nice.” Dean scoots over and allows Cas to slip in beside him. He’s going to kill Charlie, if he doesn’t die himself first. Castiel smells amazing, like soap and just a hint of sweat and his own earthy smell. Dean wants to bury his nose in that spot just behind his ear and breathe him in. 

He knows he’s flushed and hot and Jo is looking at him with something dawning on her face that makes him want to squirm away from her gaze. She doesn’t look like she’s upset though, so that’s something. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he saw disgust on her face. It would break him, probably. Of course he doesn’t know if he’s lucky or not because soon Jo has the same conspiring smirk on her face that Charlie does and the two of them start plying Cas with questions. 

They’re finishing up with dessert when Jo says, “So Cas, is Dean a good dancer?”   
Castiel turns and looks at Dean and he’s so close Dean can see every eyelash framing those gorgeous blue eyes. “He has excellent potential,” Cas tells the girls, not looking away from Dean for a couple seconds more. He turns back to the girls. “We only had four lessons together, but yes, I’d say he could be a good dancer, maybe even a great one.” 

“You should keep taking lessons,” Charlie tells Dean. “You could use another hobby, get you out of the house.” 

“I-” Dean begins. 

“Yes!” Jo says. “You should totally do it, Dean. Plus, you’re getting to that age you know, you should be getting exercise, ward off a heart attack and all that.” Her smile is about splitting her face. Dean kicks her under the table and she yelps. “Rude! I was just trying to help you out.”

“I actually, didn’t hate dancing,” Dean admits, and Cas beams at him. 

“I should be going for tonight,” Castiel says. “Time got away from me. Thank you for letting me join you all. You’re wonderful company.” He stands and slides a business card across from Dean. “My card, in case you decide to take lessons. I think if these young ladies have their way I’ll be seeing you soon. Have a good night. Thanks again.” 

They all say goodnight and watch him leave the diner. Dean turns to the girls the minute the door closes. “You two” he sputters, pointing at them, “You, you-”

“You lovely specimens of womanhood? Is that what you were going to say?” Jo asks cheekily. “Castiel called us ‘young ladies’ you know. You could use a lesson in manners from him. Not that I think you’d mind a lesson in anything from him.”

Dean can’t really do anything but mutter a few nonsensical words.

Jo gets a little serious then. “I didn’t know you were into dudes too. Not like it matters, but why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t know myself until recently, not really. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret it just...sort of happened. I haven’t thought about it much. I don’t know what it means for me, honestly.” 

Jo nods. “Yeah, okay, I get it. I just want you to know I’m cool with it. You don’t have to hide anything from me. And you know everybody else would be cool with it too, don’t you? We love you. We don’t care which gender you choose to love.” 

“Thanks, Jo. That uh, that means a lot. Now can we stop with the chick flick moments? I feel like my whole damn life is a romcom today. Geez.” 

The girls don’t have any sympathy. “You’ll thank us later,” they say in unison. 

Dean makes sure to slip Castiel’s card into his pocket on the way out. “Are you going to go?” Jo asks. 

“I’ll think about it,” he tells her, and she seems satisfied. 

**  
Dean leaves Castiel’s card by his bed. Every night he looks at it and thinks about calling. Is he really considering taking dance lessons? Really? Sam’s accused him of “macho posturing” on more than one occasion, and that’s not who Dean wants to be, but dancing? It’s kind of hard to wrap his head around. But it was fun. And when you think about it, what’s so different about that versus all the other things guys do for fun? Is he that insecure in his manhood that he can’t handle a little dancing? With another man, his brain unhelpfully adds. 

So yes, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that dancing with Cas has a little more appeal than just dancing in general. He’s going to take it slow though. He’s been with a woman for a long time, and he’s not about to rush out into another relationship, not that the option is even on the table, necessarily. He reminds himself that he doesn’t even know if Castiel is into guys, and even if he is, there’s no guarantee that he’ll be into Dean. He’s certainly not flamboyantly gay, and while neither he nor anyone else who knows him has mentioned a girlfriend, anything is possible. It makes him unhappy to think about, but he has to keep his head on straight (ha!), even though it’s extremely difficult when thinking about Cas. 

He finally calls Cas on Friday morning, stammers in a way he hasn’t since he was a teenager, but gets through it and has an appointment with Castiel the following Thursday at 7:00. Castiel’s voice in his ear sets his body tingling in a way he’s not proud of. It’s not helping the fact that he woke up hard at all. He sets down the phone and takes a shaky breath, lets himself toy with the edge of his briefs, contemplating. 

He’s never jerked off to thoughts of a guy before. Never let himself, and probably shouldn’t now either, not when in less than a week he’s going to be in very close proximity with the guy in question. It’s only going to make things more uncomfortable for himself, and yet...he slides a hand into his underwear, pulls up his length with a sigh. He’s already red and leaking. He pushes his briefs down and lets himself spring free, thumbs over the head until his back arches. 

He pictures Cas’ hand on him and moans softly. They’d be bigger than any hand he’s ever had on him. Large and rough in a way a girl’s wouldn’t be. The thought makes his hand move faster up and down, sends waves of pleasure up his body. In his mind, Cas is kneeling over him, leans forward to suck a hickey into his neck, and Dean is gone, coming faster than he has in years. He doesn’t get up for a few minutes, takes another lazy stroke or two that sends little aftershocks through his system. There’s come cooling on his belly and it feels good. Release in every way. 

Work goes well that week. He’s back on task, focused. He teases Jo and goes out for beers with Ash and Sam. Everyone in the shop seems to feel the difference, and things hum along smoothly. He even learns all the basics of the new computer system, and Charlie gives him a one-woman standing ovation, which is probably a bit insulting, but he’ll take it. Dean’s not stupid, learning a few computer programs isn’t actually that hard, at least now that his mind isn’t otherwise occupied. The real victory is that he was willing to do it at all, that he’s opened himself to a new idea. That’s something that he keeps tucked close to his heart as Charlie and Sam high-five. 

At home, he decides to keep up the trend of exploring new things. He watches gay porn for the first time and realizes that yeah, he’s turned on. And even though it makes his cheeks pink up to think about it, the thought of a dick in his ass is...appealing. He slides a lotion slicked finger into himself when he jerks off and it’s a strange intrusion, but he comes hard, jizz shooting up to his chin and he vows to buy proper lube and explore more soon.

When Thursday finally arrives, he’s surprisingly calm. He wants to see Castiel, but whatever this is that he’s going through, it’s deeper than a crush. If nothing happens with Cas, it’s gonna be okay. Maybe Cas was just the catalyst for something bigger, who knows? He’s not going to rest his happiness on one person, no matter how much he likes him. 

It’s a hot day, and heat comes up in waves from the parking lots as Dean pulls into the studio. When he walks in the door, it’s not much cooler. Two large fans are humming as they attempt to cool the room, but it’s definitely on the uncomfortable side of warm. Castiel is flushed, his shirt more rumpled than usual. “I’m sorry, the air conditioning went out and the repairman can’t come until tomorrow. Do you want to cancel?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Dean assures him. No way he’s leaving now. 

Castiel’s smile seems genuine. “Great. So, what do you want to learn? This is your time now, we can work on whatever you want. Is there a certain dance you’ve always wanted to learn?” 

“I’ve always kind of, uh, thought the tango was pretty cool?”

“Good choice. The tango is one of my favorite dances. It’s also pretty difficult. You up for a challenge?”

“Definitely,” Dean decides. 

Castiel moves the fans down to one end of the room so they’ll have more air, turns the music up enough to hear over them. They start out slow. The steps are far different than the waltz, and Dean is awkward and clumsy. When Cas pull him in to dance, he’s too busy concentrating on the steps to think about the close proximity of the guy he’s been jerking off to most of the week. 

But apparently Dean’s pissed off some god somewhere because after a while Cas gives a frustrated sigh and says, “This was definitely the wrong shirt to wear today, do you mind if I strip down to my undershirt?” Dean shakes his head dumbly. No, why would he mind? Castiel unbuttons his shirt deftly and lays it over a chair, leaving him in a white tank top. Yup, someone definitely has it in for him. Cas’ arms are tan and well-defined and there’s a little trickle of sweat slipping down his neck and into the tank top. Dean is dizzy. 

“Dean? You okay?” No, no, no he’s not okay because now Cas is coming closer. His undershirt is tucked into his dress pants and it’s showing off the perfect swell of his ass, the roll of his hips as he walks. 

“Just a little light-headed,” he tells Cas truthfully. Screw all that mature stuff about personal growth and not needing Cas. He wants to be under Castiel right freakin’now. 

“Probably the heat, let me go get you some cool water.” He heads down the floor away from Dean to get the water out of the mini fridge by the reception desk, and Dean watches him go helplessly. He’s going to have to think about horrible things- people beating puppies, his aunt Ruth’s beard, genocide probably- so he doesn’t pop a boner while they’re dancing. The universe hates him. 

He drinks most of the water Cas gave him in one long pull. When he stops, Cas is looking at him with big eyes. Dean can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Hmm, that’s an interesting development. Castiel’s voice seems a little weak when he speaks next, but it gets steadier and they continue the lesson. Dean isn’t sure if he’s imagining the buzz of energy between them. Maybe the heat is affecting him more than he realizes. It’s hot and sticky and they’re both sweating profusely by the end of the lesson. Castiel says goodbye more quickly than usual, and they both avoid eye contact as they head to their cars. 

Dean makes one stop on the way home- the drugstore. This is an emergency situation, people. Only lube can save the day. 

At home he takes a long shower and cleans every part of himself carefully. He towels off quickly and doesn’t bother getting dressed, just heads to the bed. His skin is still buzzing with that energy from the studio. He’s so hard it’s embarrassing. He doesn’t let himself touch where he wants to, not right away. He sinks into the bed and runs his hands down his body, plays with his nipples until he’s leaking precome. He rolls to his side and grabs the lube from the nightstand, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers. Staying on his side, he moves his leg over enough to get at his hole, slides one wet finger over it and moans into the pillow. So damn good. Why has he never done this before? 

He plays with the rim for a bit before sliding a finger in and out. Once again, the intrusion is strange, but it feels good too. It’s not long before he’s sliding another finger in, enjoying the stretch. He slides his fingers out and flips onto his back, pulling his knees up to his chest. It makes him feel open and wanton in a way he probably shouldn’t get off on, but kind of is. And he definitely doesn’t care once he slips his fingers back in and hits against something that sends sparks shooting up his spine. Damn, what is that? It must be his prostate, right? He’s heard about that, but never explored it. He’s always stayed away from the “butt stuff.” Too gay.   
Fuck, he was an idiot because this is amazing. The angle is a little awkward and his shoulder is stretched funny but who the hell cares? He presses back into his fingers and moans, it feels good to be full. He’s so hard it’s painful and he finally lets himself reach up with his free hand and stroke himself. He’s literally coming in seconds. He freaking loves the way his ass clenches and unclenches around his fingers as he comes and comes and comes. He’s a jizz-covered sloppy mess by the time he comes back down from his orgasm, reluctantly pulling his fingers out of his ass. He lays on the bed panting. “Holy shit,” he says to the ceiling, “Holy shit.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Dude, you seem super chill,” Ash tells him on Friday morning. 

“Like, got laid chill,” Jo adds, poking her head up from under the hood of a Honda Accord. 

“Niiice,” Ash says, “You gettin’ some Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean tells them cheerfully, “Not unless you call my right hand my girlfriend.”

“Eeew! TMI!”Jo yells at him, “And you seem way too happy about that, by the way. What’s going on with you?”

“None of your business,” he tells her, because it’s not. Whatever he’s got going on, it’s his, and he’s not sharing it with anyone else just yet. Ash is right though, he does feel mellow. He feels settled in his own skin like never before. It feels good. So yeah, he’s whistling while he works and smiling at everybody because he can and they all just sort of squint their eyes at him suspiciously, but leave him alone for the most part. He thinks they’re waiting to see if it will last. 

Deep down inside he had known he wasn’t happy with Lisa, but he didn’t realize how much it had changed him until he started feeling his old self come back. Actually, it’s his old self and then some, a self-acceptance he hadn’t had before. He doesn’t spend a ton of time analyzing it, he just knows something is different.   
He spends the weekend working on Benny’s car again, and while he’s home, well, he takes advantage of having a house to himself again. He feels like he did when he was younger, discovering the joys of his own body for the first time. He’s quickly becoming addicted to being filled while jacking off and he starts throwing around the idea of toys somewhere around Sunday night. He’s still got the decency to blush at the thought, but that doesn’t stop him from poking around the internet to do a little “research.” 

His week goes pretty similar to his weekend, and everybody at the shop seems to breathe a sigh of relief that the old Dean is back. He’s not busy going to charity events or dinners he has no desire to go to, so he’s got plenty of time to hang with his friends, which is awesome in and of itself. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed them. 

By the time Thursday rolls around he’s good. Really good. But that damn air conditioner had better be fixed, or someone is going to pay. He’s not to be held responsible for his actions if Cas takes off his shirt again. 

The air conditioner is fixed, but Castiel seems distracted the whole lesson. His mouth is held in a tighter line than usual, and he doesn’t have that spark he usually has. It’s throwing Dean off and he does very poorly during his lesson. “All right,” he says to Cas as they’re packing up to leave, “What gives? Are you okay?”  
Cas seems startled that he noticed, even though to Dean the difference was impossible to ignore. “I- yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry if I was off tonight. I just-,” he flounders for a moment, “Nevermind. It’s really not your problem, Dean.”

“Come on, we’re going to Mick’s to get some pie and you’re going to tell me all about what’s going on,” Dean tells him, pulling him out the door. Cas doesn’t protest, just follows behind him in his car after locking up for the night. 

“Talk to me,” he says after their pie has been placed in front of them.  
“Are you sure? I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”

“Cas, we’re off the clock. You’re not my teacher anymore, you’re my friend, and friends listen to friends, right?”

Cas gives him a small smile. “Right. Okay. How much do you know about my family?”

“Nothing, really.”

“My family is very wealthy, and very religious. They think that money means they own you. Gabriel, my brother that you met, is the one exception. He told them all to fuck off ages ago, pardon my french, and made his own millions by himself, though none of us are really sure how,” he adds with a fond shake of his head.  
“I was being groomed for the family business, and was supposed to go on a missionary trip the year after I graduated but I met...I met a boy. I fell in love,” he says very quietly. “My mother came home early one night and caught me. My parents were furious. They told me that they were sending me to a place to be ‘rehabilitated’. When I refused, they said I had to either go to the school or be disowned. I didn’t go to the school.”

Dean’s heart aches with the slight tremble in Castiel’s voice, the way his shoulders hunch in as he tells his story. “That sucks, Cas. I’m really sorry.”

“Gabriel, he saved me. He found out what my parents did and he gave me a home. I’d always loved dancing, although I hid it from my parents. They’re the ones who got me ballroom dancing lessons so I wouldn’t embarrass them at events, but if I’d told them how much I loved it, they would have made me stop, and they certainly wouldn’t have approved of the kind of dancing I had picked up on the side. They sent me to a religious dance school that only taught the most ‘proper’ of ballroom dances- quick step, waltz, that kind of thing. 

“Anyway, long story short I found other means to learn the rest of what I wanted to learn. Gabriel knew that and it was he that suggested I learn how to teach, and paid for me to become a teacher. Two years later he bought Heavenly dance and drummed up my first students. I owe him a lot.”

“I’m really glad you had him.”

“Me too,” Cas says with feeling, “Anyway, that leads me to why I was upset today. My mother called yesterday and asked me to come over. I thought, foolishly, that perhaps she wanted to reconcile but she...she and my father sat me down and told me that I was an abomination, that God had spoken to them and told them that they should offer me another chance to ‘come back to the fold,’ and give up this wicked life I was living. Dean,” Cas looks up and he sounds desperate, his eyes glistening with tears, “What is so wicked about the life I’m living? I’m not sleeping around. I don’t even have a boyfriend right now. I’m a good person. I try to do the right thing. What’s so bad about me?”

“Nothing, Cas,” Dean says fiercely. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

He sounds small and defeated when he speaks again, “I know they’re wrong. I do, but...I guess it was just worse because I had this stupid hope that maybe they didn’t hate me anymore. Being thrown out of that house yet again...I’m mad that it hurt me so much, honestly.”

“Of course it hurt, Cas. Feeling like you’ve let your parents down is hard, even when you’re not close, or know they’re wrong. Just...you are a good person, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I do know that you’re good. The fact that you’re into guys doesn’t make you bad, and it certainly doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Thank you for saying that. It-it does help, you know, hearing it from someone else.”

“Well, it’s the truth, Cas. Now, we’ve got two pieces of amazing pie that are wasting away in front of us, and that’s just wrong.” Castiel finally smiles a real smile and Dean’s so glad he got to put it there. 

**  
The summer goes by quickly. Things at the shop are running better than ever. There’s barbeques at Sam’s place, and swimming down at the lake. There’s one long, blush-inducing chat with Charlie, who, for all that she’s a lesbian seems to have an amazing grasp on the male anatomy. “I think sexual exploration is important,” she tells him. Dean thinks maybe she’s right, and finds himself hunched over his computer a few nights later. Thank God for the invention of the internet, he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught buying a dildo in a sex shop. 

Somehow, he and Cas keep up the tradition of going out for pie after his lesson. Talking with Cas is easy, and before he knows it, he’s shared more with him than he thought he ever would. Castiel is an amazing listener. As always, his eyes are warm and intense, and he seems genuinely interested in learning to know Dean more. Dean’s not sure what this thing is between him and Cas. It’s certainly not just a professional relationship. Castiel tells him more about his life growing up too, and it makes Dean sad. He can’t imagine how anyone could neglect Cas so. He’s the least deserving of hate of anyone Dean has ever met, certainly he’s a much better person than Dean himself. 

In the mean time, Dean’s actually getting pretty good at dancing. It’s a lot more fun than he thought it would be, even though Cas might be a big part of that. They spend a lot of time laughing. He teaches Dean the quick step and it’s gotta be good for his heart because they don’t call it the quick step for nothing. He’s surprisingly good at it, even Cas is impressed. 

The tango is still his favorite though, and they keep it brushed up, learn more as they go along. Cas lets him pull him in tight, holds eye contact in a way that sends shivers down Dean’s spine. The tango is the last dance they do the night Dean goes home and decides to try out his new toy for the first time. It’s not a coincidence. Dean wants Cas so badly, it’s an ache he can’t get rid of. He stretches his hole slowly with his fingers, imagines Cas between his legs, opening him up.   
He’s hard and leaking by the time he finally presses the dildo against his hole. He sinks it in slowly and the stretch burns. He lets his body adjust to it and then lets out a sigh as he slides it all the way home, fucks it into himself and imagines it’s Cas there. He’s long ago given up on fantasizing about anyone else. It always comes back to Castiel. 

It feels good to be full, once he adjusts to it. Pretty freakin’ great, actually. He adjusts the angle to go deeper and slides it in and out of himself with long, slow strokes, finds the right angle to hit his prostate and arches up into it. Okay, he’s definitely doing this more. A lot more. He comes with Cas’ name on his lips and doesn’t even feel shame anymore. It’s obvious that whatever this is with Cas isn’t going away. 

He cleans himself up and crawls back into bed naked, curling up onto his side and thinking. He wants Cas to fuck him, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s more than lust. He enjoys Castiel’s company. He wants to spend more time with him in every way, not just in bed. What does that mean? He’s been wondering for a while if he should make a move, but what if Cas isn’t into him? Dean really can’t bear the thought of losing Cas’ friendship. Aside from some inappropriately long eye contact, Dean hasn’t flirted with Cas. He wonders if he should maybe start showing his interest a bit more. That way, if he feels Cas backing away, he can reign it in and they can just be friends. He wants that at least, even though he knows it will hurt if Cas isn’t interested. 

Okay, he decides as he drifts off to sleep. Operation “woo Cas” is on.


	11. Chapter 11

Flirting with Cas is easier than he thought it would be once he lets himself. He’s always been a natural flirt, and he enjoys the way people react to him when he turns on the charm. It’s not just a game with Cas though, so he goes slow, a few longer than necessary touches, a wink after a cheeky remark, and Cas doesn’t seem to mind. 

A couple weeks into it he gives Cas his most playful smile, lets his eyes rove down his body in a way that has Cas’ ears pinking up. Cas doesn’t seem to be pushing him away, so he keeps it up. He bumps his knee against Cas’ under the table at the diner, jokes with the waitress about how picky his “boyfriend” is. He’s got Cas and the waitress blushing by the time he’s through with them. The waitress goes off giggling and comes back with two larger than average slices of pie and beams at them both. It’s more fun than Dean thought it would be, and he lets himself enjoy it and not obsess about the outcome. He doesn’t seem to be losing Cas, so that’s something. 

He’s about a month in and they’re dancing the waltz. It’s taking Dean back to where this all started, and he’s not even sad about Lisa anymore. He can’t regret it, not if it led him to Cas. Cas is of course dancing the part of the woman, so his head is turned away from Dean and as the song fades, Dean finds himself leaning forward without meaning to, brushes his nose along the curve of Cas’ neck. 

Castiel stumbles, pulls away from Dean. “You- you’re, how can you-” He sputters, and Dean feels his heart sink. He wants to cry right now, because this is it, this is the moment Cas turns him out on his ear. This is the moment he loses Cas. Panic wells up in his heart and he can’t say anything, can’t breathe. 

But then Cas is crowding him into a corner and kissing him. It’s all heat and wet and Dean’s brain isn’t functioning properly for a second but then it kicks back on and he’s kissing back, pulling Cas even closer, letting him lick into his mouth. There’s nothing but the sound of their lips and little cut off moans for a long time. Castiel finally pulls away and he looks wrecked. “You don’t know what you do to me,” Cas tells him. 

“If it’s anything like what you do to me, yes, I do,” Dean returns. 

Castiel pulls him into the hallway, away from the windows and presses him against the wall again, knee pushing in between Dean’s legs in a way that has him gasping and grinding against Cas helplessly. Castiel’s lips move to his neck, sucking in little bites and licks as his fingers trace the edge of Dean’s jeans, fiddle with the button. “May I?”

Dean pauses. Not because he doesn’t want it, but because he’s suddenly nervous. “Cas, I’ve...I’ve never been with a guy before.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’re already familiar with the equipment,” Cas says, nipping at Dean’s earlobe. Then he pulls back, “You’re not-I’m not just an...experiment, am I?” He looks almost panicked. 

“No, no Cas,” Dean rushes to assure him. He cups Cas’ face in his hands and kisses him deep and slow. “You’re one of my best friends. I would never, ever do something like that to you. Never.” 

Cas relaxes in his grip and kisses him once more softly, popping open the button on Dean’s jeans as he does. He pulls down the zipper carefully and it’s a relief to his dick, which has been pushing up against it since Cas first kissed him. Cas traces his finger over the bulge in his briefs and Dean thinks he might actually die when Cas gets his hand on him. He manages to get his hands to work opening Cas’ fly and Cas shivers against him. He pulls Dean out and thumbs at the head, and Dean is breathing in short gasps against Cas’ neck. 

He feels unsure and a bit shy as he reaches into Cas’ pants and strokes him carefully. Cas is thick and long, sits heavy in his hand. He finds he likes it, and the way Cas is moaning into his mouth says he must be doing something right. Then Cas is pressing them even closer together, getting his hand wrapped around both of them and stroking in long, sure strokes. Dean feels dizzy, can feel himself on the edge already and Cas is relentless. He gives up on helping and uses his hands instead to cups Cas’ ass and bring them even tighter together. He and Cas keep exchanging kisses that gets sloppier and wetter as they go and then Dean is coming, hot and thick between them. 

Everything is even slicker now and Cas keeps going, letting Dean go after Dean twists under his hand, too sensitive for more. “Let me,” he gasps to Cas. Cas braces himself against the wall and lets Dean finish him off. It’s different at this angle, but the mechanics are the same, and it feels right. Cas’ lips are inches from his and shiny with spit. Dean is mesmerized by them, can’t wait to see what Cas looks like when he comes. He doesn’t have to wait long. Cas throws back his head as he comes, mouth open around a moan and Dean buries his face in his neck as Cas spills over his hand. 

They both just stand there staring at one another for a long minute, then Cas goes to the bathroom and comes back with paper towels, cleans them both up and tucks Dean gently back in his pants. Dean suddenly can’t stand anymore, so he lets his knees finally give way and slides down to sit on the floor. Castiel doe the same and sits opposite. There’s silence for a few moments, then Dean says, “So that happened.”

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Cas asks quickly. “I wasn’t rushing this?”

“Rushing? No way. Cas, we’ve been dancing around this- heh dancing around this,” Dean snorts at his unintentional pun and Cas rolls his eyes affectionately, “Anyway, we’ve been moving towards this for months. I mean, if you count all the times we’ve eaten out as dates, we passed the ‘three dates rule’ a long time ago.”

Cas smiles at him, bumps his leg up against Dean’s gently. Dean rubs Cas’ knee with his hand, smiles back. “If we go to the diner now, can I call this a date?” Cas asks. Dean laughs at him and gets up slowly, offering a hand to Cas. Cas pulls himself up, and doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand. Dean twists their fingers together and kisses him on the cheek. 

“By the way, you’re not paying for lessons anymore,” Cas tells him at the diner. “ I don’t want to have to be professional with you.” Dean can’t help the smile that stretches his face.   
**  
Sexual exploration, Dean decides, is a lot more fun with someone else. Not that he doesn’t still do some of it on his own. Cas is taking it slow, easing Dean into it, which he appreciates, but he wants to be filled so badly. Toys will have to do for now. Soon, he hopes, and his belly does a little flip flop, soon toys won’t be necessary if he has his way. 

The first blowjob Cas gives him, Dean thinks his brain is going to explode. Cas is good at this. Very, very good. Dean decides Cas is a blowjob prodigy because he doesn’t want to think about where Cas might have gotten the practice. 

Dean, as it turns out, is not a blowjob prodigy. Giving blowjobs is hard. “How does anyone do this?” He whines to Cas. Cas laughs and guides himself back into Dean’s mouth and talks him through it, thumb pressed into the hollow of Dean’s cheek as he sucks. Cas pulls him off by the hair before he comes, which Dean is grateful for, but he wants to know what Cas tastes like, so he licks at his stomach and decides it’s not so bad. Cas just groans and pulls him up for a kiss, tells him how good he did, even though Dean knows he wasn’t that great. 

His jaw hurts as he tucks himself into Castiel’s side, but he vows to do more in the future. He’s determined to get better for Cas, even though Cas assures him he doesn’t have to. 

He’s never going to catch up to Cas, he decides two weeks later. As Castiel blows him, he uses spit and some of Dean’s own precome to slick up a finger and presses the tip of it into Dean. Dean comes so hard it takes him a good few minutes to come back down. Castiel beams down on him before taking himself in hand and coming all over Dean’s stomach. It’s a wonder Dean is still alive. 

For a few weeks, Dean lives in a Cas/Dean bubble. Everyone at work is giving him knowing looks, even though he hasn’t told anyone except Charlie, who high-fives him and then hugs him tight. “You deserve to be happy,” she tells Dean, and he didn’t realize how much he needed to hear it until he does.   
Dance lessons continue, although Castiel has a task trying to keep Dean focused. Still, Dean makes progress and Castiel smiles proudly at him, finds increasingly creative and mind-blowing ways to reward Dean for his successes. 

They continue going to the diner after class most nights, and spend hours talking about every topic under the sun. Castiel is extremely smart, Dean finds out. In the beginning, he feels intimidated by Cas’ intellect. He knows so much about so many things, and he’s traveled all over the world. When he lets it slip to Cas how he feels, Cas is quick to remind him that there are many different types of intelligence, and Dean is far from stupid. It quiets Dean’s fears a little. 

Dean and Cas can’t stay in a bubble for long. Dean’s friends are getting anxious to meet the person he’s clearly seeing, despite his occasional weak protests. And the truth is, he wants Cas to meet his family. Sammy is the only blood relative he has left, but as Bobby says “family don’t end with blood, boy,” and Dean knows just how right he is. 

He’s nervous about broaching the subject with Cas, but he finally does one night after class. “So, my friends really want to meet you. Sam does too. He won’t stop hounding me about whoever I’m seeing. I thought maybe I could have people over, just an informal thing? Would you hate it?”

“Of course not, I’d be honored to meet the people who matter the most to you, Dean, if you want me to. Gabe has been asking about you too, you know. He’s already met you of course, just doesn’t know about what has happened between us since then.” 

“We could have him over too. He’d probably like my friends,” Dean says a little darkly, thinking about all the mischief Gabriel could get into with Jo and Charlie.  
“Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.”

“Do these people know you’re dating a man?”

Dean squirms a little in his seat. “Uh, Jo and Charlie do. Everybody else? No.”

“Dean, you need to tell them before we all get together. I know it’s hard for you to talk to people about this, but you need to. You told me Jo said they’d be supportive, right? That’s really good. You just can’t walk in there and say ‘hi, this is my boyfriend,’ when you haven’t even told them you’re interested in men.”  
“I know,” Dean says miserably, “ And I know Jo thinks they’ll be okay with it, but what if they’re not?”

“Then you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it, but you can’t spring this on people when we first meet. It’s not an option.” He presses his hand into Dean’s on the table, gives it a squeeze. “You can’t help who you’re attracted to, and if anyone can’t accept that, then it’s better you find out now, right?” Dean nods, even as his stomach twists uncomfortably. 

Of course Castiel is right. Dean decides to start with Sam. He knows he should have talked to him about it a long time ago. It’s not like he thinks Sam is going to reject him for it, but he really, really hates talking about this stuff with anyone. There’s a small, traitorous part of him that wishes Cas was a girl so all of this complicated stuff would go away. He hates himself for even thinking of it. He’s glad Cas is exactly who he is. He thinks of the way his body feels solid and strong under his fingers, or how he wraps around Dean and makes him feel so safe and he knows he wouldn’t trade him for a hundred girls, but sometimes he still struggles with it.   
He brings it up the next time he’s at Sam’s. “So, you know I’ve been seeing someone, right?”

“Pretty obvious,” Sam says with a know-it-all smirk. “When are we going to get to meet her?”

“Him,” Dean corrects, and Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Oookay,” Sam says after a minute, “So you’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Yeah. You don’t seem all that surprised.”

“I am, but not, you know? I mean, remember Mark in 10th grade?”

“Nothing happened with Mark.”

“I know, Dean, but the way you guys looked at each other? Not exactly bro material right there.” Dean blushes. He hadn’t known anyone had noticed. “I know Dad-” Sam starts.

“Don’t. Don’t go there, Sammy.”

Sam hold up his hands in a placating gesture. “I just- I know you weren’t allowed to explore what you were feeling about this stuff, okay? And it wasn’t right. They were wrong, Dean.” 

“Mom-”

“She wasn’t perfect.” Sam’s voice is soft and pleading. “She did what she felt she had to do, but neither of them...neither of them let you be you.”

Dean’s hands are shaking. They never talk about this stuff. Never. Dean idolized his parents growing up, always tried to be the perfect son, look out for Sammy, be a man like dad, make it so mom wasn’t sad. Sam’s always been the one with perspective, Dean can realize that now, even though he resented it growing up. “I just didn’t want to let them down,” he finally says, voice cracking.

Sam puts a hand on his shoulder. “You still don’t want to let them down,” he says, hitting the issue right on the head, as usual. 

And suddenly Dean is sobbing. It’s the single most embarrassing thing he’s ever done, crying on his brother’s shoulder. Sam just pats him on the back and lets him cry because Sam is all evolved and into feeling your feelings, the little shit. “God, I feel like such an idiot,” Dean says, finally pulling himself together enough to free himself from Sam.

Because Sam is really smart and he knows exactly how long Dean can handle talking about feelings he gives Dean a shit-eating grin and says “You’re such an emotional Neanderthal.” 

“Shut up bitch,” Dean says back, taking the out. 

“Jerk,” Sam returns happily, and they settle in to watch some mindless TV. 

**

Dean is more settled after his talk with Sam. It’s a lot easier to gather Ash, Bobby, and Jo the next day and ask them if they want to come over and meet his boyfriend. Ash doesn’t even blink, “Sure thing, I’m happy for you bro,” he tells him. 

Bobby stares at Dean for a long time before he pulls him into a gruff hug. “Okay, son,” he says. “Yeah, that would be great.” And Dean is so thankful he could burst.   
He’s still nervous though as everyone arrives that weekend. It’s Gabriel that breaks the tension, staring up at Sam, “Be still my thundering heart! This is your brother? Where have you been hiding him?” Sam blushes to the roots of his hair and everyone laughs heartily at his expense. 

“Yes, that’s my brother,” Dean tells him, “ And this is my brother’s girlfriend, Jess.” 

“Damn,” Gabriel says, completely unabashed, “All the good ones.” Any nervous tension that was left in the room dissipates and before long everyone is talking and laughing. 

Dean’s eyes follow Cas most of the night. He’s wearing snug jeans and a dark gray sweater that hugs him in all the right places and there’s something about watching him move easily around Dean’s apartment, talking with his friends. Jo and Charlie adore him, Bobby obviously respects him, and Ash is, well Ash is Ash. Ellen hugs them both tight and kisses Dean on the cheek. “This is good,” She whispers in Dean’s ear. “Hang onto it.” 

“I will,” he assures her. 

Towards the end of the night Dean catches Gabe, Jo, and Charlie in the corner, heads bent together. “Oh no,” he tells them sternly, “Whatever it is you’re planning, no.”  
Charlie blinks up at him with wide, too-innocent eyes. “Who says we’re planning anything?”

“I knew I should never let the three of you be in the same room together,” Dean mutters. 

“Of course, now that you mention it,” Jo says loudly enough to still the room, “We were thinking you and Cas should show us what you’ve been learning at all those dance lessons.”

“What? No.”

“C’mon Dean,” she wheedles. “For me?”

“Dance, dance, dance,” Gabriel begins to chant. 

Cas gets up and lays a reassuring hand on Dean’s arm. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but we could.”

“Fine, you all owe me so big for this,” he says, giving the three in the corner his best death glare. Charlie just claps her hands in delight and gets everybody to scooch back so they have more room. Cas goes over and switches the Ipod over to the soundtrack he made for practice. It’s a cha cha and even though Dean’s not as familiar since he’s just starting to learn that one, he grins. At least it’s something light and fun. He lets Cas guide him just a little bit, even though he’s supposed to be leading, and he knows he’s not nearly up to speed, but everyone whoops and claps like crazy when they’re done. Dean’s panting and his cheeks are red from more than exertion. “All right, you’ve had your fun,” he tells everyone, “Now get the hell out of my house.” He’s grinning so they know he’s not mad, but they all shift to get up anyway, it’s late. 

There’s kisses and hugs as everyone leaves and Dean thinks that dancing in front of all his friends aside, it was a pretty good night. As the door closes behind the last of their guests, he moves to straighten up the house, picking up loose cups and plates as he makes his way to the kitchen. “Leave it,” Cas says, and something in his voice pulls Dean up short. Cas goes back to the Ipod and picks another song, a slow, sensual rumba. “Dance with me?” He asks Dean, holding his hand out. 

He takes Cas’ hand and allows himself to be pulled close, hips swaying to the music and Cas’ eyes never leaving his own. The steps take Cas out and away from him for a moment, and when he comes back, Dean drags him closer, stops the dancing entirely to pull Cas flush against him and kiss him until they’re both panting. Cas’ hand is in his hair now, hips making little aborted thrusts against Dean and Dean is so filled with need that he can’t stop himself from gasping out, “Cas, I need you. Need you in me. Please. If you want to, if you’re ready.”

Cas just nods, pulls him toward the bedroom. Even after all this time, all the ways they’re familiar with each other’s bodies, this is new, and Dean’s struck with nerves that leave him fumbling. “Shh,” Cas soothes him, “Calm down.” He undresses them both slowly, lets his hands linger over Dean as he lays him down on the bed. He kisses Dean’s wet open mouth, swallows up his moans as he thumbs across his nipples. 

Dean’s just a ball of aching need now, and he almost whines when Cas pulls away to grab lube out of the nightstand. “Shh,” Cas soothes again. “Shh.” But it’s not fair because he’s slicking up his fingers and then he just takes Dean’s entire length into his mouth without warning and Dean almost yells it feels so good. Cas is half holding him down, half petting him with a hand on Dean’s stomach and then he’s teasing at Dean’s hole with his other hand before sliding a finger in.

Dean bucks up against Cas and has a moment to worry that he’s going to choke him, but Cas was prepared. He’s moved back a bit, and he lets Dean fuck his mouth in shallow thrusts as he pushes another finger in beside the first. Dean finally has to reach down and pull Cas off. “Gonna come,” he pants.

“And?” Cas asks with a ‘your point is?’ raised eyebrow.

“Wanna come with you inside me. Please.”

“Oh, you will,” Cas tells him with a self-assured smile, and this is a side to Cas Dean hasn’t seen much of. He thinks he likes it. Of course, he doesn’t have long to think about it because Cas goes down again and he’s literally sucking Dean’s orgasm straight out of him. Everything is so hazy that it takes a moment for him to realize that Cas is still two fingers deep and thrusting them slowly in and out. Now that he’s come, it feels different. Less urgent. He’s got time to analyze how it feels, enjoy the feel of his ass clenching around Cas’ fingers, the way Cas is hard and leaking, but still in control, patient in a way that Dean envys. 

“Get a condom out of the drawer and put it on me, will you?” Cas asks Dean. Dean nods dumbly. There’s no other response for Cas kneeling between his thighs, hair wild from Dean’s hands in it, mouth red and used. Dean leans over slightly to reach and Cas’ fingers follow him, pressing inside still. Dean manages to get the condom out of the wrapper and slide it over Cas with trembling hands. “Slick me up, please,” Cas says, voice deeper than Dean’s ever heard it. Dean leans forward and lets out an undignified noise as the movement causes him to fuck down on Cas’ fingers. Cas looks a little wrecked at that and then he’s groaning himself as Dean slicks him up. “Thank you,” he manages to get out to Dean. And Dean can’t help smiling and fucking himself harder on Cas’ fingers, leaning forward to grab him and pull him down for a kiss. 

Dean’s no teenager anymore, but apparently Cas has magical powers on refractory periods because his dick is already starting to show renewed interest in the proceedings. An interest that only increases as Cas adds a third finger and curls them just right so he hits that tight bundle of nerves that makes Dean’s stomach jump and his dick make a valiant effort to get fully hard again. “C’mon Cas, get in me.”

“You’re sure you want this?”

“Do I look unsure to you?” Dean grouses. 

“No,” Cas murmurs, eyes dark as they meander over Dean’s body spread out beneath him. He grabs a couple pillows from his side of the bed and gets Dean to move his hips up so he can slide them underneath. “This might be easier for you on your stomach,” he offers.

“I want to see you,” Dean tells him, and Cas nods, lifts Dean’s thighs in a way that spreads him open and makes him shiver with anticipation. 

Cas pushes into Dean very carefully, inch by inch and it burns like nothing Dean has felt before, like Cas is impossibly big and Dean will never be able to take him all, but he wants it so much he can’t breathe. His muscles are fluttering around Cas and he groans as he pushes the final way in, stays still to allow Dean time to adjust. “Breathe,” Cas reminds him. Dean breathes and feels himself slowly relaxing. Cas still feels big, but in a way that makes him feel satisfactorily full. It’s much better than he could have imagined, has imagined countless times, in fact. 

“You can move now,” he tells Cas, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining the sigh of relief Cas breathes at that. He moves slowly at first, small careful thrusts until Dean is becoming loose and sloppy in a way that has him begging for more, harder. Castiel gives him everything he asks for and more. The noises filling the room are obscene and dirty and Dean feels so good he just lets Cas fuck him silly, lets himself get carried away on the sounds of Cas’ grunts, the creak of the bed, the slap of skin on skin. Cas leans down and mouths at Dean’s neck and then he wraps a hand around Dean and pulls another orgasm out of him, even stronger than the first. Dean is so full, can’t believe how good it feels to come around Cas as he thrusts into him, uneven and a little frantic.

Then Cas stills and comes. Dean rests his hand against Cas’ heart and feels the racing beat of it. He’s overwhelmed by all the sensations running through him. It’s impossible not to whimper at the loss when Cas pulls out. He’s already pretty sure he could happily live with Cas’ cock in him day in and day out. 

Cas takes care of the condom and drops it in the trashcan by the bed, but doesn’t move for a bit. “You look good like this,” he tells Dean. Then he’s tracing fingers through the jizz on Dean’s stomach before reaching down and sliding them back into Dean’s wet, open hole, feeding Dean’s own come back into it. His brain can’t even form words. He should probably be disgusted, but all he can think is that Cas is far filthier than he ever imagined and he loves it. He loves it so much. He loves Cas so much, and thank God he can’t brain right now because he definitely shouldn’t be blurting that out for the first time while Cas is slowly and methodically pushing come into his ass. 

“Showers should probably happen,” Dean finally says.

Cas continues tracing patterns around Dean’s hole but agrees reluctantly and somehow they both make it into the shower where they half-heartedly wash up in between unhurried make-out sessions. They even manage to stumble through putting new sheets on the bed before they flop down next to each other. 

“I can see why you waited so long for this,” Dean says finally. Castiel turns his head on the pillow and looks at him. He raises his eyebrows in question. “It’s so much more...well that’s just it. It’s so much more, isn’t it

Cas smiles and nods his head against the pillow. “You don’t wish we’d waited longer, do you?”

“No way. That was amazing. You’re amazing Cas.” 

Castiel reaches over and plays with the damp hair on Dean’s forehead and looks at him for a long time. “You’re perfect,” he finally says. Then he closes his eyes and promptly falls asleep, hand still resting in Dean’s hair.


	12. Chapter 12

Things are so good that Dean is getting nervous. At some point, he figures, the universe is going to figure out how good he has it and screw him over. “Stop that,” Cas tells him with a frown, but Dean can’t. It’s a response that’s hard-wired into his system. Still, he does his best to enjoy what he has and not worry. 

Truth be told, his greatest fear is losing Cas, even though Cas has given him no reason to think he might leave. Sooner or later, that nagging voice in his head says, he’ll find out what you really are and then he’ll be out of here. He’s way too good for you. Dean looks over at Cas sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, morning light falling across the ridges of muscle on his back and thinks that yes, Cas is far too good for him. 

Cas has been spending most of his time at Dean’s. He lives with Gabriel in his loft downtown, so there’s no privacy if they’re there, so it’s Dean’s place by default. Dean’s not complaining. It’s rapidly becoming very domestic between the two of them, a fact that makes Dean’s heart flutter with nerves or excitement, he can’t tell which some days. 

He doesn’t even realize that he’s being cautious around Cas until Cas calls him on it. “Fight with me,” Cas tells him one morning after he’s done something that annoys Dean. It’s one of Dean’s pet peeves, actually, but he thought he was hiding it well enough. Apparently not. 

“You want me to fight with you?”

“Sure. Grump at me. Tell me how annoying it is when I get up and forget to make the coffee. Yell at me a little bit when I push your buttons. Don’t handle me with kid gloves, Dean.”

Dean’s immediately defensive. He folds his arms over his chests and wills his voice to stay calm. “I’m not.”

“You are. I see the way you hold yourself back. You’re afraid to tell me anything that’s bothering you, like we’ll have some little spat and I’ll go running.”  
Dean’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Ah,” Cas says, knowing, “That’s exactly what you’re afraid of.” He moves across the kitchen and brackets Dean against the counter with his arms. “Dean, I love you. I’m not going to leave you just because we might argue sometimes

“You-you love me?”

Cas bumps his nose against his affectionately. “I do, you idiot. And there’s no pressure to say it back. I simply wanted you to know.”  
“I do-I do too you know. Love you,” Dean says quietly. 

“Good,” Cas murmurs against his lips, “So love me enough to give me all of you, not just the good stuff, okay?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“You’re just so- so amazing. You’re way too good for me, Cas, anyone could see that.”

“To quote Bobby, now you’re just being an idjit.”

Dean can’t help but laugh at that.

“But seriously, Dean, I’m not too good for you. And I’m not perfect. You already know that I do annoying things, and there will be more that we haven’t found out yet. I’m not asking you to be anything less than yourself and all I ask is that you don’t require that of me either. We’re going to fight. It is absolutely going to happen, but that doesn’t mean we’re not right for each other.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

They have their first big fight two weeks later, and Dean goes to work in a huff and bitches to Jo about Cas and tries to calm his rolling stomach and doesn’t even make it through the day before he’s calling Cas and apologizing and Cas is too. When he gets home he can’t even get his coat off before Cas is on him, mouth and hands hot against his skin and they don’t make it to the bedroom to fuck, just do it right there on the living room floor because half a day mad is just too long. (And because Cas was smart enough to put lube in a drawer in pretty much every room in the house.)

“Let’s not do that again,” Dean says to Cas as they’re curled around each other on the couch.

“What, not a fan of rugburn?” 

“No, that part was awesome,” Dean says, even though his knees are going to be sore for the next week, “I meant the fighting.”

“Yes, that was stupid,” Cas agrees. 

“Still, I’m kind of glad. Geez, that sounds bad I just mean- we fought. We said nasty things. And we’re here. I’ve still got you.”

“You’ll have me for as long as you want me,” Cas tells him, pressing his lips against Dean’s throat. 

“I can’t imagine a time that I won’t want you,” Dean tells him honestly before he really realizes what he’s said out loud. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page,” Cas says and then he’s kissing Dean so thoroughly that it feels like a first kiss all over again. “Come to bed with me?” Cas asks.  
Dean nods, “Although, you did just use me pretty well about ten minutes ago.”

“That’s why I thought maybe you could fuck me this time,” Cas tells him, and leaves Dean gaping open-mouthed on the couch as he trots off to the bedroom. Dean watches Cas’ naked ass disappear into the bedroom before he finally snaps out of it and scrambles to follow. 

**

Before he knows it, winter is slipping into spring and it’s almost a year since he first met Cas, since his whole world got turned on its head. Dean’s happier than he’s ever been. Slowly, one burden after another has lifted from his shoulders. The lies he’s believed, and the secrets he’s kept, even from himself, have slipped almost completely away. Sam’s so happy about it, Dean’s going to need sunglasses soon just to be around that megawatt smile he shoots at Dean every time he sees him. Of course these days, the smile probably has more to do with the fact that he finally asked Jess to marry him and she said yes, but still. 

Dean does his first ballroom competition in May. Cas has a student that needs a partner and he suggests Dean. It takes some cajoling, but he does it and he and his partner take third in the amateur smooth competition. It’s a pretty awesome high, and it only gets better when Cas drags him to a dressing room and blows him after carefully undoing the pants of his tux. Cas makes sure to suck up every drop he can so as not to make a mess and when he stands and kisses Dean he tastes like come and satisfaction and it’s a heady combination. 

One late summer night, when the breeze wafting off the pond is almost still uncomfortably warm, a small group is gathered under the stars. There’s not a dry eye amongst them. Cas and Dean stand across from each other, barefooted in jeans and t-shirts and Gabriel’s voice cracks just a little as he finishes. “And now, by the power vested in me by...me and anyone else who has half a brain, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the...each other. Yes, do that.” He waves a hand at the already kissing couple and everyone laughs and claps. They’re not legally married, can’t yet where they live, but to everyone that matters, they are each other’s for life. 

There’s blankets spread out amongst tiki torches and everyone digs into the pie that Ellen brought from Mick’s. Dean can’t take his eyes off Cas, even now. Castiel smiles back, licks cherry pie into his mouth with satisfied strokes until Jo chokes out, “Oh my God you two, please don’t start the honeymoon in front of all of us!” Dean blushes a little. He’s almost forgotten they aren’t alone. Cas has that effect on him. 

Music is coming from the tinny speakers of a small portable CD player and as the strains change, Cas rises and holds out his hand. “May I have this dance?”  
“Always,” Dean tells him. It’s a waltz, fluid and soft, and Cas guides them gently over the grass to an open spot among the torches. Cas pulls Dean into his arms, and as always, they fit, like two puzzle pieces sliding into place, and Dean feels whole at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it through the whole thing-thanks for reading! Again, I crave any bit of feedback I can get to better my writing, so please do leave a comment and let me know your thoughts. I'd be ever so grateful.


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